Dreams and Fears
by Adam Epp
Summary: Slowly, Ichigo realizes that his life is slipping away from his control. Things are about to get very bizarre for him and Rukia, and very soon.
1. Reversed Discontinuity

**Note: **My take on the Alternate Universe. I've seen others write stories like this, but meh. I'm doing it my way. Also, in several ways as each chapter is a mostly self-contained story. This fic is done as part of a challenge/ death match with Laurie Bunter. Check her profile here regularly to read her story after she's finished it.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Bleach. _Spoiler alert, a few passages are taken directly from the Viz's translation.

* * *

_"Perhaps life is just that... a dream and a fear."_

_- Joseph Conrad_

* * *

_**Dreams and Fears**_

* * *

Ever had one of those days? When it seemed like you were still in a dream but nothing could wake you up? And, after a point, things got so crazy you knew it could only be real and you weren't even sure if you were imagining things?

That's the kind of day I had. If it even happened in only one day.

At some point, I'm not even sure when it began, I lost track of where I was. It had to have been a dream, I knew that much, but later even that fact was lost to me--when the nightmares took over me...or maybe before then. It's all so fuzzy, I can't accurately describe it. I can only believe these shuffling visions, the glimpses of mirages, have stopped now because I can remember some of what I went through in detail. Or are these memories some trick? Are they even real?

...Yeah, I know how dumb and paranoid this sounds. I think it sounds stupid, at least. I'm not prone to believe in crap like this. Ghosts, spirits, demons..._those _are easy enough to believe. After all, I can _see _them. But any weird stuff like being trapped in a nightmare, or something, is bullshit as far as I am concerned. Or was.

Big surprise that somebody out there decided to fuck with everything I understand...or thought I understood.

This is so freakin' unbelievable, but that's simply the way it is. Unbelievable. Not much I could have done but wait for the damn dream...dreams, whatever...to pass. Do nothing and let the course of Destiny run the whole show.

Ha! As if. It might have been some constructed world, be it from my imagination or somebody else's, but there was no way I was going to roll over and let events happen beyond my control. Not even if it killed me.

...Have I even woken up from these dreams?

* * *

**1. Reversed Discontinuity**

* * *

_Kurosaki Ichigo._

_Substitue Shinigami. Strengths: perseverance, agility, loyalty, confidence in himself. Weaknesses: prone to arrogance, rash, mentally unstable. Age: Sixteen Height: tall. Build: average. Hair colour: orange._

_Background, CONFIDENTIAL: Born to renegade Shinigami and human mother. Has unusually keen spiritual senses from birth. Unaware that this made him different for an extended period of time. Mother dies to hollow at a young age. Continues to grow and develops a surprisingly high amount of reiatsu for a living soul, to the point that direct contact can influence other souls. Subject does not encounter hollows after mother's death for several years. Does not encounter Shinigami until age fifteen, coinciding with subject's next encounter with a hollow. Following..._

_Error in database._

_Unable to display data on Ichigo Kurosaki after this point. Editing is in progress. Please wait a few minutes and try again._

* * *

Immediately after my eyes opened, I could sense something was not right.

Too dark for one thing. Darker than it should have been at six in the morning on a regular summer day. No, I sure as hell would never take a nap in the middle of the evening, and neither would I wake up before the World's Worst Alarm Clock screamed in my ear. Speaking of my father, it wasn't normal for him _not_ to be hassling me at this hour, either. It could only be late in the evening, strange as that was. Looking down, I saw I was wearing my school uniform. Since when did I wear that to sleep? Never, case in point. It was evening, not morning. Furthermore, some...inexplicable absence permeated the entire room. Quiet...dark...the time being wrong...something I couldn't describe...those just happen to be physical oddities for the most part, and while they did--scare is definitely not the right word--bother me a bit, that wasn't what was _disturbing _me in my room that night.

No, it was what I could _not _feel that instantly put me on guard.

_Reiatsu._

Now, I wasn't exactly top of the class when it came to handling or sensing _reiatsu_, but I was no slouch. And when I couldn't feel _any _of it, whatsoever, be it from myself or the neighbor's obnoxious cat, that was a bit too ridiculous to stomach, or believe. Especially the lack of _reiatsu _from myself.

Why the fuck was I suddenly as weak as I had been for the first fifteen long years of my life?!

Okay, okay, I should have calmed down. Like, this had to have been a dream. I knew it. Right then. Ha ha, so funny. Not. This was the least pleasant fantasy I could think of. A nightmare! What the hell did I eat before going to sleep?!

By then, I was no longer lying in bed. Oh no, I was stomping around the room in righteous fury. Unfortunately, I couldn't find Kon and literally beat the stuffing out of him. That would have helped immensely. Heh, Rukia also...

Shit.

Rukia.

I couldn't let her see me like this.

...But I couldn't hide, either, since that would also be admitting weakness--though I was in no way weak. No, sir. Moreover, I had no way of telling where she was without being able to perceive _reiatsu_, so hiding was pointless, anyways. Who knew where she could be? Not me. Then, where could I go? Run, stay, hide, seek her out...argh! All those options were not an option! At a total loss, I ended up stuck in my room, ripping my hair off. Weak and a total embarrassment to Substitute Soul Reapers everywhere...if there were any besides me. Even if there weren't, I was a disgrace to myself.

Of course, seeing how I didn't want her near me at the moment, Rukia had to show up right then.

Right through the middle of my wall, no less. Talk about bad timing. Not to mention rude. Too good for the door, like everyone else? And she was showing off how much more of a _Shinigami _she was than me, wearing those black robes that suited her so well, especially in the night.

Expecting a look of disappointment from her, I opened my mouth to explain why I was suddenly such a pussy, even though I had no clue what the hell was going on. Except...except I stopped once I realized Rukia's--surprisingly--cold gaze was not directed at me but towards the distant horizon outside my window.

Uh, was I that horrible to look at?

"It's close...!" she abruptly spoke, walking past me and pretending as though I didn't exist. Or that's what it seemed like to me.

What the hell was so close?! I wanted to ask, but the way she disregarded my existence pissed me off a little too much. Rubbed me the wrong way.

"Hey, would it hurt to say 'Hello' or anything?!" I snapped at her, almost whacking her...Oops, maybe "almost" wasn't exactly right. I was seriously frustrated, you have to understand.

Startled--she probably noticed then I lost my _Shinigami _powers, at last--she stared at me in shock, from my floor. "You...you can see me?!" sputtered Rukia stupidly. Duh, of course I could. "And...you kicked me!" Shit, I actually did lose my handle. My bad, really.

Huh? Wait, what did she say?

This was the dumbest joke I'd heard from her and she'd had some real snoozers. "Well, yeah, I can see you! What kind of moronic game are you playing?!"

Before she replied, an unexpected force assailed me from behind.

Dammit!

"Quiet, boy! Stop jumping around up here!"

The old man! Attacking my back!

"I can be as loud as I want in my own damn room!" I shot back with a kick of my own. I watched him fly with great satisfaction.

Wait a second.

Since when did this idiot attack me when the option of hugging the life out of one of his precious "daughters" was available? And wasn't this whole scene a little too familiar...?

"Dad, are you going to say hi to Rukia or..."

Shit, too late, I forgot that pops couldn't see Rukia in _Shinigami _form. Fuck, have I lost my brains along with my ability to feel _reiatsu_? That's just something else.

Yeah, and to drive the point home, pops looked absolutely clueless. Not that there was much of a difference from how he usually looked. Still, I could just tell. The world could go to hell and my dad wouldn't realize a thing was wrong even if the devil put him on a skewer and roasted him by a fire.

"Look at who? What?" my dad responded, staring intently at a speck on my wall about a meter to Rukia's right.

Again, that feeling like nostalgia tickled the back of my skull but I hadn't grasped it quite yet.

"Never mind," I pretended my earlier, unfinished query had never been asked. Great, Rukia was going to be furious at me for nearly blowing her cover over. On top of me kicking her. Man, I was going to be facing a real monster soon. And, I was still angry at Dad. "How many times are you going to use such underhanded tacts against your own son?!" I blasted at him, fists a blazing.

...Really, though, I only had to hit him once more to get him off crying to Yuzu or Karin. Wimp. He should be ashamed of himself.

Phew. Living with that maniac was tiring.

"...How..."

Oh! Rukia. I turned to look at her and she was in...complete shock? Totally pale. The white of her skin stood in stark contrast to her flowing robes.

"...How..." she repeated slowly, eyes of violet fired in suspicion. "How...do you know...my name...?"

...Say what?

I face-faulted. She was taking this ruse too far. Acting like she didn't know me in addition to pretending I wasn't in the room.

"Come on, Rukia," I sauntered towards her, my shoulders slouching in resignation, "can you just stop the dumb act?" I'd had enough.

In response, she twisted her sleek fingers around the hilt of her sword. The ivory of her knuckles stood out. "Don't act so familiar with me, human! How do you know who I am?!"

Tch.

"We've known each other for years, remember?" I played along--to my own tune, that is. Which is probably why she glared at me. Hey, don't get mad if I don't want to partake in your fun, Rukia. You started this whole dumb thing.

"I've never seen you before," she absolutely simmered, and I almost recoiled from the heat. Or was it ice? Impossible to tell. Either way was pretty scary and I probably shouldn't have been acting so recklessly. I was putting my life on the line needlessly. "Answer me!" she demanded, as she always did around me. "How do you know me?! Persist in your levity and I shall not hesitate to use force!"

"Like I'm scared."

The answer was pure reflex, but apparently a big mistake since I quickly found myself bound against my will by a spell, getting a taste of my floor.

"Wrong move, human...that is, if you're not actually a Hollow." What?! Hollow?! "You'll be stuck here for your insolence while I search for the actual Hollow, as a moron like you could not possibly the real monster. Unfortunately, the Provisional Spirit Law forbids me from killing you..."

Furious, I struggled against invisible bonds. Kill me?! Tying me up?! This was insane! I wasn't into this kinky tomfoolery!

"Dammit, Rukaghrrgh-!" Cursing her served only to get my lips restricted.

"...Now, if only I could find the demon..." she resumed her soliloquy as if nothing happened. As if I didn't exist. "Alas, I have not been able to sense its presence for some time now..."

Why not...?

...Hey.

Something clicked, at long last, in my brain

Hold on.

...This really was too familiar.

But I've got to be wrong, since there's no way I could have possibly...

_Dhoooooooooooooooooooooooooom!_

An earth-shattering roar, one that could I clearly remember hearing long ago, eliminated any doubt. It was _that _day, again. But, how? It made no sense. I wasn't dreaming, I thought. The weight of Rukia's spell was clearly pressing me hard against my floor. So, if it was real, why did I have memories from after this day? And...if I could have the memories, why couldn't I retain my power?

_Dhoooooooooooooooooooooooooom!_

No time to ponder _why _I was suddenly reliving that fateful night, though.

"...Like there's some force obstructing my senses..." Rukia continued to ponder aimlessly.

I knew the truth, however.

Me. I was that force. In a big way, the twisted deal I made with her was all my fault. It was startling how events panned out the way they did before. Hey! Shouldn't I be able to change something now?! These memories had to be there for a reason!

But...right now, the Hollow should be attacking...

My eyes went wide and I began seriously fighting the bonds. Were the invisible ropes tighter this time or something? At least I could shake off the little magic she placed on my lips. "Rukia! You need to hurry! Right now, the Hollow is-"

She appeared surprised I shook off a part of her spell, but my words caught her interest. "Is what? What do you..."

_Dhoooooooooooooooooooooooooom!_

Shock swept over her entire being. Looks like she heard it, finally.

Whatever. That wasn't important. "My sisters, they're in-"

"Kyaaah!"

Yuzu! No!

Immediately, Rukia ran towards the scream.

"Wait!" I called to her, causing her to pause. "Undo the spell! I can help!"

Yeah, I remember being stronger than she was.

"Don't be a fool! You'll only add to the body count! Be quiet and leave this to me! Understand?!"

...Right.

I was stronger _before _I lost my powers, for whatever reason. Still, I couldn't lie helpless while my family was in jeopardy, even though I knew everything would turn out all right. Wait...would everything end the same way? Like, what if things happened differently this time around?! If it's possible for me to make things better, wouldn't the opposite be true as well?!

Shit!

Wasn't there usually some consequences that people face when they went back in time in those sci-fi shows, because they changed history or something? I kind of wished I hadn't always left the room when my dad and Yuzu watched shows like that. They didn't seem so dumb when I was living in one of those impossible situations.

The Hollow roared, sending ripples of destruction through my life.

Dammit, I was being too slow!

Then, the sound of a heavy weight being dragged along the hardwood floors wiped my anger at myself away with a brush of fear.

No, not...

"I...Ichigo..." Her voice was weak, so different from her usual self which needed to be so strong. She had to be in serious pain. "Are you okay...?" Nonetheless, she put others' safety before her own. She always did so.

"Karin!" I screamed. Exactly as I did before. Shit, no, I needed to change the past! But I couldn't think straight.

Bleeding and bruised, she pulled herself next to a _Shinigami _only I could see. "Good...it hasn't come this way..." Karin was looking at me. Couldn't see Rukia, it seemed. "It happened so fast...Dad's back exploded and he fell...then it went for me and Yuzu...so fast...I thought...had to warn...Ichigo..." My insides turned to fire. Foresight be damned, I was consumed with hatred for this weakling Hollow once more. "What is it...?" Dead meat. "I didn't get a good look...I don't think Dad or Yuzu could see it...Ichigo...hurry..before it finds you...run..."

Drained, my little sister lost consciousness. I grit my teeth.

"It's okay, she has only passed out," comforted Rukia, albeit coldly, telling me what I already knew.

That didn't bother me, though, since I wasn't listening to her, anyways. I was going to kill that son of a bitch.

Rukia twisted in my direction, surprised. "Stop! What are you doing?!" she yelled as I raised myself to my knees. "Stop! No human's strength is enough to break the _kidou_!" I knew. I knew. I knew that! And that's why I was so pissed off! Ahh, my arms felt loose. Almost there..."If you force it, your soul will..."

Be removed in _Shinigami _form, I hoped, as the hot air around me crackled and hissed from the heat and her bonds were torn asunder.

Turned out that wasn't the case, that I would become a _Shinigami_, but I had enough steam to take down another Menos Grande with a simple glare and I was already pushing past Rukia and running towards the asshole that hurt my family. Reason be damned.

"Wait!" Rukia desperately attempted to halt me. Futile. As if I ever listened to her in moments like these. Hadn't she learned that by then?

Her cry long behind me, I dashed down the stairs four at a time, and soon reached the landing that connected to the living room. A menacing crack lined the wall.

Inside the living room. Blood. Ruined furniture. A rank odor, something was burning. The old man, more blood! Where was it...?! I moved inside the room, went through to the kitchen. There, a gaping hole practically removed the wall. There! It was there!

So determined to kill this Hollow was I that I seemed to all but forget I'd done this all before.

...Yet, I don't think I could be blamed for that when the bastard, standing outside the destruction of my house, looked to be squeezing the life out of...

"Yuzu!"

A tear in her eye, my little sister choked out my name. "Ichigo..."

Enough! No matter how many times this happened, my feelings would never change. Nobody fucks around with my family. Never again. I swore this to my soul the day _she _died.

Having no weapon to speak of, not even a baseball bat, I lunged towards the Hollow armed only with my rage. Kind of surprising it didn't keel over just from that, I was so mad.

Of course, my fury, powerful though it may be, was useless next to a Hollow's strength and a strong fist sent me flying backwards to the wall. The wind was knocked out of my chest, leaving me gasping for air, whilst my head slammed painfully into the wooden wall. Red spread over half my vision in waves.

My skull must have been split open.

That knocked a little humility into me. Yeah...that's right, I was insignificant then. It had been so long since I was so weak, I could no longer remember what it was like to be the sand ground down by the rotator. Yeah, I'd lost a lot of fights since becoming a _Shinigami_, the sense of defeat was nothing new to me, but at least I'd had a chance to win in all those battles. I stood no hope next to this pitiful hollow, however, and that frustration cut into me deeper than the wound on the back of my head. Just one encounter with this Hollow, and the consequences of frailty made themselves all too apparent again My world lost meaning. I hated to admit it, but the truth was clear: I needed help.

That only Rukia could provide at this hour.

How frustrating. I couldn't stomach being able to do nothing!

At the moment, however, the Hollow stood poised to deliver a final blow to my soul; while I had been thinking, it must have approached me. Ha! If I was insignificant, it was nothing! Suddenly, I couldn't stop smiling. Despite a razor sharp claw flying towards my chest to finish me off, I smirked...Yeah, this loser was nothing compared to _her_.

Grinning, empty though it might have been, I watched Rukia slice off the Hollow's right arm an instant before it reached me and fling Yuzu into my protective embrace.

"Yuzu! You all right?!" I asked my other sister to no avail.

"Stay calm, boy!" In a flash, Rukia put herself between me and the Hollow. "The Hollow has not yet devoured any of your family's souls!"

Yeah, yeah, I got that. Sorry that I was concerned for my sister. "What about you, though?" I looked at her, sideways, still intent on Yuzu. Of course. No way I could forget how my life started anew because of this Hollow's dirty blow on Rukia and that fateful exchange.

"Me?!" She snorted indignantly. Well, her pride was at stake here. "I have no idea how you learned my name, kid, but you can't know me too well if you believe this low-level Hollow stands a chance against a seasoned veteran such as myself!"

"Hey, I don't think you're weak or-"

"Furthermore, I've never seen a 'human' that could see us Soul Reapers before...or break a binding spell. I have never heard of a human with so much _reiatsu _before...but haven't you realized by now that you drew this monster to this plane?!"

I...!

Father, Yuzu, Karin! An image, of a beautiful woman in black being pierced by a monster's fangs. And, stronger than anything else, a certain rainy day...

Slowly, I stood, ignoring the pain."Yeah, you're right," I agreed. Like before, about how I was the one that really hurt my family. Even worse, I was the reason you got, or would be, hurt, Rukia. "All this...is because of me! My dad, dying over there...Yuzu, Karin bleeding, and you being taken to..."

"Wait..." Truly, Rukia sounded apologetic as she turned around to regard me. I knew how sincere she was, too, yet I believed I was the one who should be sorry. After all, I inadvertently changed her world without meaning to. "That is not what I meant..."

Caught off guard, the Hollow wasted no time to take advantage of our exchange and swatted Rukia away.

"Rukia!"

Shit, what was I doing?! Everything was happened _exactly _as it did before! I should have been doing my best to protect Rukia this time around!

Angry still, I glared at the Hollow. Dust blew around us on the dark street. Light bulbs flickered on and off, as if trying to avoid being sucked into the black void of this creature.

...Suddenly, I was confused. More confused, rather. I needed to protect Rukia this time, but I couldn't do so without dying. Heh, dying? Who says I'd die? Wouldn't I just end up claiming my _Shinigami _powers if the Soul Link was cut? However, last time I tried to get this demon to kill me, Rukia interfered and the long story began from there.

...Could I do it right this time? She was still dazed from the Hollow's earlier blow.

Going to try, regardless.

"Hey...ugly..." I taunted the Hollow, my mind swimming. "You want my soul...?" She was down, she couldn't possibly get in the way. "Then fight me like a man! Forget the others! It's me you want! So kill me!"

Set me free!

"You fool!" Rukia cried out against my choice, as expected.

No, you wouldn't be taking the blow this time, Rukia. I couldn't fight...yet...but I could distract this loser long enough for you to deliver a fatal blow. And you would have more than enough _reiatsu _to spare for my family's injuries. Yes, the plan was best. The risk we took last time was insane.

For added measure, I put all my remaining energy in my legs to run faster towards my end. To the gaping maw of the Hollow's jaw. Closer, closer, and closer I got, until I could count the individual teeth of the former human's mouth, until I could smell its rancid breath, until I could feel my heart beat its final pulse.

"No! Stop!"

Fangs sank inside me and the pain exploded, consuming all my senses. Looked like Rukia wasn't fast enough the second time around.

Instead of white, my world turned red, then softly faded to black...Briefly, I wondered if we could still be together on the other side of the abyss.

Heh.

What a dumb question, I thought before closing my eyes.

Then, I died.

* * *

_Editing complete. Resuming background:_

_...Following encounter with Shinigami, Kuchiki Rukia, subject Kurosaki Ichigo is soon killed by hollow, and..._

_Error._

_Information regarding Ichigo Kurosaki is currently under heavy scrutiny. Tampering in the database is highly suspected. User #1138 must leave the Library at once, or the account shall be terminated immediately._

* * *

It was dark again. Entirely black. Like before, except without the sense of uneasiness I felt earlier. At the same time, my body was split into two factions. On one side, various parts of me were completely numb, so much so I questioned if they were even still there. I wondered how much of my flesh was torn off by that weak Hollow. As for the rest of me, all I could feel was pain. Every nerve that hadn't been turned off was searing, burning out and approaching the nothingness felt by the rest of my body. I wasn't sure how I lost consciousness, it hurt so much. I wasn't sure why I hadn't died yet, the agony was so immense...Err, didn't I die before? How was I still living? No matter, another question was bothering me:

Was this how she felt last time?

Or had it been even worse? In addition to her wounds, she had to deal with losing her powers. Then again, hadn't I lost my powers as well tonight? Maybe it wasn't so different. In any case, I couldn't regret my actions if it meant she didn't have to endure this again. I knew she likely wouldn't forgive me, would probably think otherwise, but I didn't care. I didn't want to lose another to the rain.

As if hearing my thoughts, I felt something wet hit my face. Then another. And another drop. Then, it wasn't only my face. Wherever I could still feel a response, these cool, wet drops landed on my hot skin. It got to the point where I was soaked. Really nice, it was, since it helped me forget I was probably going to die--and soon.

Which was good, because death was still a pretty scary thing. When you're young like I was, it was easy to not fear your demise because it always looked so far away. I knew it was going to happen some day, that I would die, but not for a long time so who cared? Not me. Yet, with the end abruptly staring me in the face like this, it was frightening, even though I knew what was going to happen to my soul in the afterlife.

But this rain helped me to forget that, and to believe that, maybe...it wouldn't be so bad to go out in a place like this, with a pleasant and familiar warmth at the back of my neck.

My ability to think was distorted, then, but the voice from above that spoke next came through to me clearly.

"Why did you do that?"

It wasn't angry, like I expected. Only a little sad...like I feared.

Did she expect me to answer? It didn't sound as though she was asking me a question. More like she was voicing her thoughts listlessly, in my unbalanced opinion.

And I didn't know how I would answer, even if I could. Choosing to take the blow... I couldn't remember why that seemed such a smart decision at the time. I had been so lost in the moment before, seeing my sisters so hurt had taken away my ability to think rationally.

What I believed to be the rain continued to fall upon me, slowly becoming heavy instead of comforting. Heat was quickly leaving my body, being replaced by the cold. My time had to be short. This little reprise itself was a miracle.

Before I went to wherever I was going next, though, I wanted to see her face.

Fortunately, my eyes could still function. It wasn't the most pleasant feeling, but I forced myself to see. What I saw, however, was only blurred. Shadows. Too many of them...It figured. At least I could tell which one was Rukia.

A startled gasp, then.

"...You're still alive?!" I heard her say in surprise before becoming solemn. "Only barely...I don't think you'll..." Live. She stopped herself from saying it, but I could understand. Too well. Couldn't _not _understand with my life burning out like this.

Softly, she sighed. Quite different from how she was earlier that night.

...It was still the same night, right? The one where we first met? Because this situation seemed a lot more like another night. Or was I no longer able to tell them apart? I suppose it never mattered to me much what happened so long as she was there.

Quiet. It was quiet, then. I couldn't speak, just keeping my eyes open was draining me, and I think she was trying to come up with the right words to say to me. Pretty bad of myself to put her in a situation like this.

"Your family is safe...You protected them. After the hollow..." Attacked me, I filled in the blanks once more. "...it was left vulnerable and I easily purified it. Your family's wounds were not severe and I was able to restore them to their previous states. Their memories of the incident have been removed...Unfortunately, I didn't have enough strength left for your own wounds...I'm sorry. They...your family...think you died in an accident. They're awake now, still very upset about your 'death.' Does that make you happy?"

Not exactly.

"...Still, I'm somehow proud of you. I wonder if we knew each other in a past life...maybe that was how you knew my name...You know, not many people could throw their lives away for the sake of others like you did, human. What you did was really admirable, in a stupid way. You have potential to go far in Soul Society. They like people like you...You did a lot more for your family than I ever could have..."

...What the hell was she saying?! Geez. I wished I wasn't dying so I could scream something at her.

The rain battered my last nerve into submission. My eyes lost power and I felt them close for the last time.

"...Goodbye. Perhaps we'll meet again."

Perhaps?! More like, definitely, because I needed to knock some sense into her again.

Thinking that, I left this existence for another.

* * *

_Kurosaki Ichigo._

_Plus soul. Strengths: unknown Weaknesses: unknown. Age: unknown Height: unknown. Build: unknown. Hair colour: unknown. Work is in progress for this file._

_Background, CONFIDENTIAL: Born to renegade Shinigami and human mother. Has unusually keen spiritual senses from birth. Unaware that this made him different for an extended period of time. Mother dies to hollow at a young age. Continues to grow and develops a surprisingly high amount of reiatsu. Subject does not encounter hollows again for several years. Does not encounter Shinigami until age fifteen. Following encounter with Shinigami, Kuchiki Rukia, subject Kurosaki Ichigo is soon killed by a hollow being pursued by Kuchiki Rukia. Afterwards..._

_Access restricted beyond this point. Your account, #1138, has been suspended._

_Have a nice day.  
_


	2. Night and Day

**Note: **Another chapter, and longer than the previous one. Ask yourself who was behind the rewriting of Ichigo's life in the previous short story as you read this one. I can't promise a clear answer, but perhaps this can give you something to think about. Or not. This story's premise has changed dramatically since I began writing it a few months ago, and I fear I haven't executed my ideas and thoughts and stuff as well as I could have.

...And sorry about the long delay between chapters, for the two or three of you reading my story. I hope the extra length appeases you enough to be an adequate apology. Think of this as _two _chapters for the price of one!But enough rambling. More reading.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Bleach_.

* * *

The room was dark, save for the glow of a computer screen. It was impossible to tell what time of day it was. Could be night or day. Or both. It didn't really matter, though, since the man in front of the monitor worked through the entire day and the entire night without rest.

A sound of keys being punched in could be heard in rapid waves. Occasionally, a break would occur in the typing and the dark room would go silent, save for the dim hum of the fan running inside the computer's tower. Then the typing would resume, more intense than ever. Louder than ever.

It was as though the man was trying to keep himself awake, he typed with so noisily.

Yet, it was to no avail. The room only got darker and darker for the man. The silences between the keyboard being furiously mashed grew in length. After the longest gap, the man went into overdrive and slammed his hands against the keys. He couldn't have even be writing anything coherent, his motions were so out of control. He was berserk. This was the climax. This could not last much longer.

And it didn't.

The typing slowed. The rage diminished. Heavy gasps were audible as the man's breathing went ragged, but his respiration was smoothing into gentler intakes of air with each breath. Hands, now sweaty with perspiration, eased on the keyboard. Fingers moved up and down in strain, then froze. And a head of slick hair crashed forward onto a desk, hitting countless keys.

The man was finally asleep. He would not wake for some time.

The room was dark, save for a glimmer of light radiating from a monitor. Soon, the monitor went to sleep and the room was enveloped in black.

The man dreamed.

* * *

**2. Night and Day**

* * *

Early, early, Ichigo Kurosaki woke up at an incredibly early hour. What a guy. He woke so damn early you had to wonder if he even slept at all. He did this every day and it was like he wasn't even controlling his body, sometimes, the way he moved about his apartment suite. He pretended as though this seeming lack of control did not bother him.

_All right. Let's see if this turns out the way I wanted it to _this_ time_.

And he pretended he did not hear that thought, or voice. Whatever it was. It was nothing.

The penthouse he rented was stunning. Fully decked out. Came with four bedrooms. He only needed one, but what the hell, why not, he told himself. A nice, marble-top jacuzzi glittered in the bathroom. And it was never used because Ichigo worked too hard to ever stop and relax in it. For showering purposes only, the tub. He had a nice kitchen. Spotless. Pans of increasing size hung above an impressive oven; clearly, none had ever been used for their intended purpose, as each cooking tool was cleaner then the day it was purchased. Ichigo always went out to expensive restaurants instead of cooking anything fancy for himself. Hey, those chefs needed someone to pay their bills! All the rooms in his apartment were up-to-date with whatever was currently fashionable, though Ichigo had absolutely no idea what was cutting edge in interior decorating. None of the decorating had been done by Ichigo himself. A sort of lack of personal connection between his home and Ichigo existed because of this. Not that this mattered because he spent most of his day at the office. Or on his home PC, which was better than the best money could buy.

He spent time in his room. Yeah. Got lots of sleep and didn't work throughout the entire night on his personal computer.

After waking up early, Ichigo washed up, shaved, drank a _lot _of coffee and ate a simple bowl of cereal while going over the newspaper, checking out the stocks before quickly heading out the door. Nothing exciting in the paper--again. Only some news about a housing crisis for people trying to move into town because all the residents were too happy with their own homes to sell them, and an old man had died from Severe Overjoy after the local, professional baseball team had won its seventh straight championship. Old man died with the biggest smile in his life, which is always something in Hirusugi, City of Smiles.

Everything was super happy in the city of Hirusugi. Always was, always would be. They were all part of a never-ending pipe dream that only got better with the passing of time. A man could easily live in content in this peaceful city that needed no heroes. Certainly, Ichigo could. Hence a big smile often seen on his face.

_Good. Just as it should be. This should be enough to be please anybody else. We're all sick of needing so many heroes. We want a better place to sleep._

Anyways, Ichigo needed to get to work. He did love that job of his. Deep down, at least. Right? Damn right.

Down the elevator, to the bottom of the tall apartment complex, to his car, he went. Along the way, any and every person he passed gave him a quick smile brightened by whatever jewellery they wore. Every person here was rich. He smiled back at those people. He was rich, too. His smile was as real as could be, not forced in any way.What was his job if he earned so much money? Must have been a good one. Yeah, had to be if he was this happy.

His car was a lease. Latest model of some sports car. Ichigo kept on forgetting the name of the thing, as he hadn't looked into what he was buying too carefully. He had wanted to sign the deal and driving away as quickly as possible. All he knew was that it looked important, and he looked important when he was in it. That was all that mattered in Hirusugi. Being cool. It was a cool city and so were its citizens. Ichigo was cool, too, and felt important. Big smile.

And he did appear cool and important, driving away from his suburbs that morning to the heart of downtown. To the center of numerous, sparkling skyscrapers that climbed closer to the heavens every year. The top of the car had been pulled down, and he slipped on a pair of shades after the sun started to climb into the horizon. Too cool.The perfect life. Yeah. It had to be. Who could imagine a world better than this?

_Yeah, this is the life! Everyone will love this! It's perfect. So much better than the alternative._

By the way, Ichigo left so early because the drive to work was slow. Yeah, his apartment wasn't too far from the center of Hirusugi, but the traffic was mental in the dawn's early light. The life of excess everyone enjoyed here, the life that allowed the towering buildings to grow another floor every year, was only a product of hard work and that meant everyone needed to chip in and chip in early! Like they say, the miner that digs deepest gets the diamond-encrusted watch! And Ichigo had several fancy watches, despite needing just the one. More importantly, though, the one watch he wore told him he needed to step on it if he wanted to dig up another beauty this fine day.

Too bad the streets were clogged with hundreds of luxury cars not so different from his own, all moving at speeds considerably lower than their ludicrously fast potential. A city drowning in its riches, Hirusugi could be at times.

With the top of his car down, Ichigo nearly drowned in how awesome this all was. How exciting it was to have not a single worry save for his next money-making assignment.

_Unbelievable! Who could imagine a world like this? I'm a fucking genius!_

Shaking his head, Ichigo continued the slow descent into the maze of corporate paradise.

A few hours later--by then, the sun was clearly in the middle of the sky--he reached his destination: the most important, thus tallest, building in Hirusugi. As noted earlier, Hirusugi was a focal point of wealth. Opulence was the name of the game here. The unemployment rate was zero, and had been so for years. No one was without employment once they came of age at thirteen, and most began working before then. There was no shortage of cash. All the people could possibly be lacking was entertainment, and Ichigo's company supplied this most important of demands.

Any kind of entertainment you needed, Ichigo's company could provide it. Ever wanted to be a professional baseball player? No problem. Sports simulations were easy. Other games? Soul Reaper Entertainment had them before you even knew you wanted them. Want to get physical with the latest hot singer? Come on, give Soul Reaper Entertainment a challenge: switching faces on virtual bodies was almost easier than creating the fantasy in your own head. Hate your boss? So does Soul Reaper Entertainment and they would gladly provide you with a safe environment to have a sociopathic killing spree. Because Soul Reaper Entertainment cares about you and loves it when _you _smile.

Want to be rich and drive around in a fancy car? Well, probably not because chances are you already are rich and drive around in a fancy car. Giant laughter. Sorry, Soul Society Entertainment joke.

Parking in the special spot reserved for him, Ichigo sighed in relief. Fifteen minutes early. Awesome. He walked from the parked car to the front entrance.

The entrance to his workplace was extravagant. Granite blocks polished smoother than a baby's ass and shinier than one, too, supported the majestic tower at its foundations. Gazing up, Ichigo couldn't even see the top of this spire. Somewhere up in the clouds breached by this gigantic building, he knew some well-paid window cleaners were working around the clock to make sure not a single insects' corpse could dirty a window for longer than a minute. Back down to earth, however, more revolving doors than necessary spun non-stop as people went in and out non-stop. Ichigo became another person to pass through those spinning doors.

Inside, where marble floors reflected both the wealth of the employees and the employees, themselves--it was incredibly clean-- Ichigo snapped off his sunglasses and greeted the secretary at the base of this economic fortress. Doing so risked being late, and being late was _not _cool, but not talking to his co-workers would be even less cool. And when you're in the business of making cool products, you need to be cool.

"Hello, Ms. Inoue." He was brisk. As always. Not a single sign that he was tired could be seen on his face. Because Ichigo was wide awake and lead by example. "How are you today?" And he was always polite, without fail. Good job, Ichigo Kurosaki. You are so like yourself.

The young woman at the desk jumped. As patterned to do so. "O-Oh! Mr. Kurosaki! You're early. As usual," her face was flushed. No need to be so shy, Ms. Inoue. Be happy and smile.

_Inoue? Should she even be here? Did I screw up?...No, everything is running smoothly. Just met an unexpected development. Still..._

Ichigo blinked.

"I have to be on time," replied Ichigo, pretending to have heard nothing in his skull, "otherwise who knows what Kuchiki will have done to this place," he smirked. Indeed. Kuchiki was a sly devil and she would do all sorts of nasty things if he was late.

"Mr. Kurosaki!" shushed Ms. Inoue, glancing around to make sure no one heard her boss. None had. She moved next to her superior, right by his ear "You can't speak of one of the directors that impolitely," she whispered intently, concerned. Then backed off immediately as if it was amazingly embarrassing to be so close to her boss.

"I don't care about rules and that bullshit," Ichigo brushed aside the issue brashly, apparently not noticing Ms. Inoue's strange behaviour. But he was surprisingly polite all the same, even though he used profanity. Nice work, Ichigo, you didn't slip in the slightest. "They pay me to think my own way. If Kuchiki has a problem with that, it's not my concern."

_Heh, Rukia having a problem in this world? Wonder what kind of dumb issue it could be over here...But should she even be here? No matter._

Frustrated, Ichigo rubbed his temple. But the itch inside was not something that could be reached without digging through his cranium. He did what he could, nonetheless.

This was not missed by a certain colleague. "Are you feeling all right, Mr. Kurosaki?" Ms. Inoue jumped on this opportunity with no hesitation. Wait, what opportunity?

"Anything I can do?" she offered, hopeful.

"No, I'm fine." Her boss would never admit to being fragile, though. His livelihood depended on being tough. And suave. And classy. You know, just plain _cool_. "Been having this weird headache, lately." His secretary's mouth opened, yet he cut her off. "Don't worry about it. Should be gone before the end of the day or after I get some sleep." Probably. If not yesterday or today, then tomorrow.

_Hey, I'm not going anywhere! This is too _fun_!_

"Okay...Let me know if I can help, though."

"Thanks, Ms. Inoue, though I doubt it will be necessary." He checked his pricey watch absentmindedly, while still being polite. Damn! If he didn't rush now he might be _only_ three minutes early! Also, how could he be polite while ignoring Ms. Inoue? He sure had some major coolocity if he could do that. Props to you, Ichigo Kurosaki. "Anyways, I need to head up. Have a nice day and work hard, Ms. Inoue."

"Bye...!"

But he was off, and soon inside the elevator that would take him to the top floor.

"Come on, come on!"

Impatiently, he smashed the button in hopes of forcing the door to close faster. Being late was never cool. Eventually, the doors began sliding shut but not before a voice slipped through the opening between the doors.

"Wait! Hold up!"

A hand slipped inside the crack to pry them open. While he was in a hurry, Ichigo would never be discourteous to a fellow worker and helped the person open the door. That simply was not cool for anyone, most of all himself, to make no effort to help.

Then he saw who the person--rather, the man--was.

Regret.

"Oh. It's _you_."

"Kurosaki," his uncool co-worker nodded his head, though it could hardly be called a tip, much less a nod. As blatantly stated earlier, _not _cool.

"Ishida." Then again, his own greeting was far from rad or pleasant. To be slightly less than precise, it was the most acid-filled greeting a greeting could be while still being called a polite greeting.

The two glared at one another. Coldly, the elevator doors slammed shut and trapped these rivals inside dangerously small confines. Pretty confines, by the way. The roomy elevator was gilded with gold throughout, which matched the imported, red carpeting nicely.

_Why is Ishida here? More than that, what is this...hostility? Is something wrong with the..._

The bespectacled employee struck first, while Ichigo was distracted by external thoughts.

"How's your current project going, Kurosaki?"

"Very well, Ishida," parried Ichigo with practised ease, losing track of the mysterious monologue. "Our projections indicate an even greater success than our last project produced." And he sent a blow of his own. "How is your team doing?" Okay, the words themselves did not indicate that this was an attack, but the way Ichigo vocalized each syllable was dripping with indifference. Just so to piss off Ishida.

This elevator ride couldn't possibly go any slower.

"Great, of course," Ishida defended himself with a conceited smirk. Light conveniently found its way to the frames of his glasses and glinted maliciously. "This year, Kurosaki, you won't be responsible for topping the sales charts for the company."

"So you say every year, Ishida."

A crack appeared on Ishida's guise and a pair of spectacles slid downward. "Hey, the games I design are great!"

"They're dating sims!" Ichigo lost composure, as well. He should have slept more. "What kind of a man wants to be part of the girly division at a gaming company?!"

"My creations are spectacular, Kurosaki, unlike your lame platformers," Ishida pushed his glasses up his nose with grace, despite his indignation.

Ichigo's hands shot up to grab his colleague's collar. "That's it, I'm-"

_Whoa, whoa!_

Loudly, a bell dinged to signal they had arrived at the top floor. The doors opened and other employees at the office were waiting outside. The need for perfection was out there.

"See you, Mr. Ishida. Have a nice day." Ichigo smiled warmly, putting up a front. Too cool for school, he was.

Immediately, the air between the two appeared as friendly as the air between two cats looking at the same fish. Yep, not very.

"You as well, Mr. Kurosaki. I look forward to seeing what your team produces today!"

And the two split ways on "good" terms.

_...This Ichigo designs...things, too?_

Great, not even nine yet and Ichigo already needed his coffee break. Ugh, and he still had to deal with the most troublesome person in the building. Ishida wasn't too bad since he didn't have to directly work with the guy, but the same could not be said of Kuchiki. There was no subtlety to his "animosity" towards Ishida, unlike Kuchiki. His relationship with Kuchiki was...complex. To say the least

In this bad mood, he stepped into the Research and Development Department, Badass Division, of Soul Reaper Entertainment. If he was lucky, _she _wouldn't spot him until he could get alone with her.

"Late."

_...That voice..._

Argh! She always found something wrong. Ichigo's boiled emotions let loose.

"Look at the clock, Kuchiki!" He exploded, pointing at said clock. Around him, other workers stopped to watch but he didn't care. "I'm perfectly on time!" Uh oh. What happened to the cool?

His superior scoffed. "You arrived after I did. Therefore, you're _late,_ Kurosaki. Continue with tardiness like this and I'll have to speak with Mr. Urahara about you. No matter how 'gifted' or 'promising' you happen to be, that is no excuse for lethargy, Kurosaki."

_...I'm not sure it's a good thing Rukia is the same as ever. This is somewhat scary. Perhaps, instead, I should change her personality into something less...intimidating._

"So you say every day, Kuchiki."

Strike.

"So you admit to being late every day?"

Parry.

Ichigo blinked. "No, I'm on time every day! It's not my fault you basically live in the building and it's impossible to arrive here before you!"

Horizontal slash.

"That is no excuse for tardiness, Kurosaki."

Counter.

"Listen, can we just start working?" Ichigo tried dropping the subject. "I actually _will _be late if I continue talking to you."

Retreat. Victory, Rukia Kuchiki.

She eyed him appraisingly. "Maybe he isn't as foolish as he looks..." Kuchiki muttered.

Wait, a draw? This was confusing.

"What was that?!"

"Nothing. Get to work, Kurosaki." Suddenly, she realized the two weren't alone. "That goes for all of you!" she barked at the circle of employees that had gathered to watch the two argue.

In an orderly fashion, the crowd dispersed to their respected cubicles. Not Ichigo, though, who had a fancy and very cool office of his own, no cubicle. Like, he had super rare action figures in there and high tech gizmos that wouldn't be available to the regular market for months. That office was where he settled himself in. His...haven. The place he did his most productive work. And, for the next hour-and-a-half, he did all kinds of complicated computer calculations and crazy brainstorming, as he did to start all his mornings. Then, at precisely 10:30 am, he forced himself to stop and head for a coffee break. As he did every day. Ichigo needed his coffee very much so

_This is nice and dull._

Ichigo refused to acknowledge the bizarre voice at the back of his head, and walked purposely to the employee room. Once there, he stubbornly poured himself a hot brew. Smelled good and strong.

"Hey."

Oh, it was Chad, the giant of a man who managed the beta testing team. "Hey, Chad. How's the wife doing?"

_Wife?! Huh? I don't remember putting that in here._

"Fine," his burly friend answered in his typically concise manner. "You okay? You fighting with Ms. Kuchiki again?" Chad sipped some coffee leisurely.

"Tch, don't worry over how I deal with that woman. She'll never do anything serious against me and I can take care of myself."

"You sure? You do look a bit pale, like you haven't been sleeping."

Brashly, Ichigo took a large swig of his coffee. letting the hot liquid and caffeine energize him. "I'm sure as can be." He thought of Kuchiki. "Very much so. She just likes teasing me for whatever reason."

_What reason?_

Silently, the two stood around the staff room drinking their coffee. Others came and went but didn't stop to chat with either Ichigo or Chad.

"Well, nice talking with you, Chad, but I have loads of work to catch up on. Oh, you and your crew will definitely enjoy the stuff I have in the works."

"I look forward to it."

"Seeya, man."

"Later."

Break time was over and the two split. Back to the drawing board for Ichigo. More like the computer screen, but same thing. Normally, he would get lesser employees to do the programming for him, but Ichigo could never really trust anyone else with the initial coding. They'd miss up with something. he always feared. Having someone else program

what he viewed as an avatar of himself gave Ichigo the jitters.

Close to lunchtime, a visitor knocked on his door.

"Who is it?" He asked, annoyed. Often, Ichigo was slightly on edge. "I'm busy now!" Normally, this would scare off any assistants and their stupid questions. Not the coolest way to act, but work was of the utmost important.

Unfortunately, this was no person to be frightened so easily. No assistant.

"It's me, Kurosaki. Show me what you got today."

Kuchiki.

"...Come in," he beckoned, although Kuchiki had already allowed herself inside and was looking at him expectantly.

Suavely, or that was the intent, Ichigo flipped his monitor over. All there was too see was a mess of numbers, but Kuchiki appeared to understand. More like, Ichigo knew that she understood it. Perhaps better than he himself could, as she was higher up in the food chain than he. So, why was she taking so long to do whatever it was she was doing?

"...Well?" Ichigo asked after about a minute of her blankly looking at the screen.

She startled. "Oh."

"What do you mean, 'oh?' How's it looking to you?"

"Fine," she muttered, looking away from the screen. "I was thinking, though..."

_...Thinking? That shouldn't be possible. Everyone should be having tons of fun, not thinking._

Immediately, Ichigo went on guard. He glanced to his sides. Nobody outside the shuttered windows of his sweet office appeared interested on the goings-on inside. "Thinking about what?" he asked cautiously. "I'm not making any games about rabbits, if that's what you're going to demand again. People want to play games as avatars of what they wish to be, and no guy wants to be a damn bunny." Not the kind of guy that bought Ichigo's games, at least.

"Not that!" Blush. Or flush. Hard to tell which it was, though it was definitely red. "No, I've been thinking about how..." The world flickered dangerously. "...how _perfect _everything is in the city," She blinked, apparently not certain why she'd said that. The world flickered again. "I mean, I've been thinking about what we should do about...well, you know..."

_What is she saying?! This is insane! How can this be possible?!_

Yeah, Kuchiki was definitely more troublesome than Ishida. More complications were present in this relationship. Her way of thinking was too similar to his at times like these. Made them too close.

"...I'm sorry, but can we talk later? Like, after lunch?" Having a full stomach would help out a lot. And he pointed at the monitor. "Now's not the best time for this. I'm kind of preoccupied."

Also...

_What's going on here?! I didn't program it to be like this...!_

...he had to deal with this nuisance first. Which really meant he had to escape from it.

_Dammit, I knew I should have fixed that binary line! The electric signals aren't working properly because of that. I'm sure of it!_

"Hey, you all right, Kurosaki?" Kuchiki had gotten closer to him. Too close. She knew better. The voice in his head went insane with her this close. "Your eyes look more vacant than usual. Feeling sleepy?"

They did? Since when was he spacing out? Great, that wasn't cool at all. And wasn't she being serious? How dare she throw in that insult about being clueless.

"I need to get back to work," he told Kuchiki again, instead of what was on his mind. Or in it, rather. "We can talk later," he promised.

Kuchiki understood. "Yeah, I'm busy, too. Keigo did something really stupid that I need to fix. Again."

"Yeah. Real moron, that guy."

"He'll be regretting his indiscretion for the next month, I can guarantee you."

"I believe you."

"...All right. Goodbye, Kurosaki."

"Later."

And Kuchiki moved on. For now.

Yeah, he wasn't being cool. He knew it. But that voice was infuriating. Something was very wrong with Hirusugi, though Ichigo could not quite place what it was.

_Gotta do something about that AI. It's not working properly. Should be happier, should be happier, should be happier. Need to, need to, need to..._

The voice sounded so much like his own, only it was all wrong. Ichigo did not want to think of those similarities any longer.

_Ah, I've had enough of this!_

Ichigo couldn't take anymore, either, and the similar thoughts the voice had pissed him off even more. He had suspicions about what was going on. Damn, and usually he felt better after dealing with Kuchiki for the morning. Felt cool--and other things.That was it. There was only one thing for Ichigo to do now that could make him feel better:

Immerse himself into _The Dead Zone_; the game he was the lead programmer for. The game destined to send his entire city into a frenzy of excitement.Except Ichigo hated destiny. Almost as much as he hated this perfect city.

* * *

_"Still needs a lot more work!" _

_The same problems kept on occurring in Kurosaki's project. He wasn't sure if he even believed he could perfect his Data. On the other hand, he had full confidence that he was pissed off._

_Disgruntled, Kurosaki opened his eyes and removed the syringe from the side of his neck. The tip of the needle that had been poking into his brainstem glistened red in the gloom. At the end of the syringe, a cable ran out, connecting the syringe to a custom, self-built and shabby-looking computer sitting on Kurosaki's desk. _

_Strewn about the desk were numerous books, all in severe disrepair, and numerous bottles, all empty. Not just the desk was a mess, though; the whole room was. Throughout the cheap apartment room he rented out, more empty bottles cluttered whatever space it could on the floor, wherever there wasn't any dirty clothes, or old, empty boxes that used to contain food. Actually, more often than not the junk came in layers, with the top of a bottle poking out from beneath a sleeve. For certain, there was no sign of the floor. Oh. Not that the floor could be visible since Kurosaki kept all lights off to save money on his electricity bill; the only light came through shuttered blinds--always closed-- and the dim glow of his monitor. A table stood out because it significantly raised elevation of the trash in a small area in the center of the room. An empty fridge and a small, dirty kitchen occupied one corner of Kurosaki's den, but the clutter was even worse there. Dangerous to step there ever since he threw some bottles in that corner and had been too lazy to sweep away the broken glass. Somewhere, Kurosaki wasn't sure where any longer, a bed was buried beneath his excess. Kurosaki was unconcerned about the lack of a bed, though; the damn thing was forgotten because he never used it, after all. He typically slept at his desk if he ever did rest. Usually from exhaustion._

_Exhaustion due to that. The needle in his neck. That was Kurosaki's work. He created Data that could be injected into the body and processed by the brain. Everybody wanted it, too. Everybody could think of a happier life than the one they currently lived, and Kurosaki could give it to them. Not without testing it out on himself...but his customers weren't the only ones who desired happier days. _

Looks like the setting is perfect. It really feels like you've gone through hell in here. And is something else going on here? Must confirm my suspicions.

_Kurosaki rubbed at his eyes. He must still have been tired from his dip into his subconscious through Data. Schizophrenia had never been a side effect associated with his product. A lot of suspect illnesses had occurred to frequent abusers of his Data, but never schizophrenia. So Kurosaki must still have been tired. Yeah, that's it. Like, tired could almost be called one of his personality traits, he slept so seldom these._

_Why did he sleep so infrequently? Strange dreams pestered him. Vivid dreams. Dreams so vivid that he had to wonder if his waking moments weren't what was really a\the dream. Confusing, really. Point was, Kurosaki wasn't going to put up with those kinds of ridiculous dreams so he didn't sleep._

_He preferred the dreams offered by Data. The kind he controlled._

_The little comment in his head already forgotten, Kurosaki stumbled out of his desk and into the mess. His stomach gurgled. The task of finding food awaited him. A task of varying difficulty depending on his standard for freshness of the day. _

_The menu for the day was as follows: _

_A mostly empty-box of Chinese food that only remained uneaten because a particularly foul sock had slipped inside; Ichigo was not sure when or how that sock got in there. It was relatively fresh, except it probably tasted like a foul sock now. On the other hand, the slice of pizza he could eat had not been touched by any contaminants...but that pizza hadn't been touched by anything for at least a week. Not so fresh. Lastly, there was some teriyaki chicken to munch on. Made yesterday, too, so it was fresh. Not only that, it had yet to be affected by the filth of his room and was only dirtying other stuff. Should be the best of both worlds, the chicken. However, the teriyaki chicken wasn't take-out like the other two and had been made by Kurosaki himself, which meant it could be the most toxic of all. _

Wow, I'm amazed by how filthy this is. Makes it real easy to be happy with your own life. Really reminds you how good you have it. Yeah, just what our city needs.

_Before Kurosaki could make his selection, though, the phone rang. Maybe that was a good thing since none of those selections could have been safe. _

_Yet the phone was a bit tricky to locate. It could be anywhere. Under a shoe. Behind a bottle. Even in his pocket. With his current lack of cohesion, he could simply be imagining the phone ringing. Not dreaming, though, since he avoided sleep._

_But he wasn't. Wasn't imagining things. The phone was in his pocket, he found the damn thing eventually before the person on the other end could get impatient and hang up. _

_"...Yo," Kurosaki answered cautiously. He got calls from the strangest people and needed to be careful. Not that carrying a phone was especially careful on his part._

_Luckily, it wasn't a lunatic who phoned him. "Hey, Ichigo, come over. I'm running really low and need some more of you-know-what." Furthermore, it was a person Kurosaki knew personally. "Don't worry, I've got money, idiot."_

...Huh? You-know-what? I should know what that is! What's going on here?

_"You don't need to pay me," muttered Kurosaki, though he knew she would try to pay him, anyways. "And I'll be over soon. Later."_

_"All right, thanks. Seeya!"_

_Click. Click._

_The conversation was over quickly. A need to be brief was always in order. Not due to cops or anything, as police hadn't patrolled town for what seemed like forever. No one really understood the hushed nature of these calls, actually. It was probably only a tradition, and was carried out as nobody knew any other way to go about things._

_Well, it seemed Kurosaki's breakfast--or lunch, or supper, he wasn't sure what time of the day it was--was not to be. He had work to do. Why not do it, though? He could buy a half-decent meal if he had a little change in his wallet. Oh, that's right. He told the person he didn't need to be paid. Well, damn. Still, Kurosaki helped his friends out, right? And she'd pay him, anyways, don't forget._

_All right. Time to do a favor for a friend._

_After shutting off his precious computer and preserving its far more precious Data, Kurosaki tiptoed across the floor of his tiny room, wary of the chaos he'd created over time, to a little closet. He opened it up without thinking and was bombarded by falling magazines of the adult variety. Three of them stuck on to him. Yuck. Shaking his head at himself, he brushed the sticky pages off his body. Behind all kinds of shit he'd stuffed in there, through a mess of trash, Kurosaki found his coat and pulled it out of the closet. Slipped it on. Yeah, he was cool now. Not. It was impossible to appear cool in the jacket. For one thing, it was too big, and that meant something since Kurosaki was by no means a small guy. Also, the coat appeared almost lumpy. Only because it was lumpy--all the pockets were full--but it still made the coat and whoever wore it look less appealing without fail. Lastly, and most disgustingly, a solid layer of grimy, stained veneer coated the whole jacket. Fact of the matter was, the point of the jacket was to not look cool. To keep people away and draw negative attention, if any...though it couldn't really draw negative attention since practically everyone wore a coat just like this one._

_Anyways, Kurosaki definitely did not want attention in this thing. The pockets were stocked full of Data and if anyone found out about that, Kurosaki would be mugged to death. Literally. Everybody wanted the contents of those pockets and would kill for them. No kidding. He'd seen it happen to another dealer before. Could have happened to himself before if he hadn't been lucky in the past._

_Coat on, he forced his closet shut once more--after great effort and multiple attempts--and made another trek across the minefield to the door out of the apartment. After getting to the threshold of his crappy home, a search began for a pair of shoes. A desperate search that yielded no results. Of course, the search was doomed because, as Kurosaki realized, he was already wearing his shoes. He'd never taken them off. Again. He should remember these things, really. _

_Should sleep some more, was what he needed to do. But no._

_Now he was ready. Shoes, coat, and data. He hadn't shaved but that was no matter. Kurosaki could do that tomorrow. Or the day after. Whenever he found the razor would be fine._

_He made sure his keys were safe in the coat, unlocked all three heavy bolts on his door, and ventured out of the relative safety of his room. He only did this kind of thing for his best friends. For one, in particular._

Man, I'm a genius. This is so..._realistic_. The people will love it.

_While there was nearly no light in his pigsty, the hallway outside was even darker. If that was possible. When was the last time the tenant changed the lights? Oh yeah. The old man running the building died a few months ago and no one had bothered to step up in his place. That was why Kurosaki was stepping over, or on (since they couldn't be avoided), so many people on the floor of the corridor. His complex had been overrun by the homeless...err, the formerly homeless. After the news that this building had no authority leaked out, the less fortunate had leaked in. Only a few at first, but now it was a serious problem for Kurosaki. Every time he left his place, or wanted to get back in, he risked letting a couple of over-grown mice slipping inside his home and taking it for good. All the "real" residents in the apartment took this risk, too, but, as far as Kurosaki knew, no one else had a priceless stash of Data lying around like he did. Yeah, he probably should have moved out of the building a long time ago._

_The only reason he stayed was because you get free rent when you don't have a landlord._ _Hey, those homeless saps weren't the only ones short on money, you know. Nobody had money. He wasn't scared to leave, that was for certain. Also, he needed to help his friends._

Perfect. Perfect...Absolutely perfect. This desolation is what they want to see.

_Kurosaki ignored the strange comment. Just like he purposely ignored how still one body he stepped on was. He had a long night ahead of him. Nothing would distract him. He didn't think he should have been able to help these poor people._

_Of course, Kurosaki did not stop moving once he reached the elevator. It would have been pointless to. The useless contraption had been garnished with a big "Out of Order" sign since before he moved into the apartment all those years ago, when the landlord's heart was still ticking away. He couldn't see the sign in the darkness, but the spray paint that had crossed out the word "Order" and replaced it with "Sex" hadn't been around when Kurosaki first started renting a room here. Heh, the sign always made him chuckle in a half-hearted way. It was too true in Kurosaki's case of late._

_The staircase was plagued with human impositions like every other inch of this apartment was, but not as many people lived here since the stairs were considered to be the worst place to live in the building. Like, who wanted to sleep on a perpendicular surfaced? Bad enough when you've got no real home. Add a terminal sore back to the equation and hell might as well pass you over because the real world wasn't any better. To Kurosaki, though, none of this mattered much. Not at all, nosiree. However, the lack of good sleep for these poor vagrants meant he had to deal with them moaning and groaning in addition to taking his personal space. His every footstep woke at least two people up, and these saps loved nothing more than to beg you for spare change and tell you how horrible their lives were when they were awake. Kurosaki didn't know why they bothered to tell him, of all people, these things. His life sucked, too, and not a single person in this apartment could spare a cent. He did his share of moaning as well from lack of good sleep._

_But the descent to the apartment's landing went by with little to no incident. Other than the three-year old who woke up in a fit of screams when he accidentally stepped on her foot, Kurosaki avoided feeling sympathy for any of them. Or so he convinced himself. He didn't accidentally drop any needles full of Data for these unfortunate souls. Nope._

_Finally, he was stepping into the lobby and some light returned. The lobby, fairly large, was jam-packed with the destitute and reeked of poverty; this part of the apartment had always been prized for the lighting, which had always been better than anywhere else in the building. A slip of paper blew in from the doorway lacking any doors, where the luminescence from powerful street lights snuck inside from._

_Yeah, it was night all right. Always seemed like it was here. Kurosaki couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the sun._

_Anyways, the light made it much easier to step around bodies. And that's what Kurosaki did. At the entrance of his crummy apartment complex, he weaved around the uncaring masses, to that big doorway with no doors. His destination was outside the apartment. Very outside the apartment, unfortunately._

_Unfortunately, because as much a nuisances as the vagabonds making a home out of his home were, they weren't nearly so bad as the people hanging outside the building._

_Just as he reached the threshold separating the apartment from the twilit city of Yoru, a distraction presented itself in the form of a squeak. _

_"K-Kurosaki!"_

_He turned around. Through the darkness, a girl stepped into his view. The tattered clothing she wore was shaking noticeably, along with the rest of her. _

What will you think of this, Inoue? You get to be the inspiration for a character design. Think of it as my way of giving you a bonus.

_Kurosaki twisted back to face outside. "What is it, Inoue?" he asked, his voice distant. _

_Keeping himself detached from people was a must in Kurosaki's life; proximity was akin to death for him._

_"...Are you going out again, Kurosaki?" She sounded troubled, as could be expected. Likely, her expression would have matched her worried tone, had Kurosaki been able to see her face. _

_"Yeah."_

_While the number of times he left his place was seldom more than a few times a month, it was considered a lot by Yoru standards. Nobody really wanted to leave the safety of their homes when they could be sleeping. Assuming they had a place to call home._

_"Why? Is it because you..." Inoue trailed off, as if not sure what to ask Kurosaki._

It's because this would be dull if he stayed inside all day. Because _I _want him out there. Because _I _am responsible for this, not him!

_Kurosaki offered no explanation for his motives. _

_"Later," was all he said, but who knew if there ever would be a later._

_Honestly, it was amazing Kurosaki was still alive after all this time. The Devil's Luck, he must have had, to pull through numerous walks across town without being murdered for a stray glance. Or nerves of steel, as one trek through Yoru at night was often enough to keep even the bravest of men hiding under their beds for a month._

_A frantic attempt was made to hold him back. "Wait, Kurosaki...!" Yet, he was already slipping away. _

Excellent. Never met a person who could stand these guide characters, but they need to be here. Now, for the real fun, for the proof...

_Once out of the mostly-safe confines of the apartment, anarchy awaited Kurosaki._

_Gunshots welcomed him to the streets of Yoru. Really. A stray bullet whistled by him immediately after he left the apartment. It hadn't been aimed at him, and it was purely chance that he happened to be near the line of fire, but what a way to start the night. Yet, Kurosaki walked down the crumbling sidewalk. With confidence. Or arrogance. Perhaps he was just stupid, but you could not deny the fact that the guy was used to this sort of thing; it wasn't the first time he'd nearly died._

_While guns were fired continuously in Yoru, their din a thunderous song of fire and chaos that never ended, it wasn't actually all _that_ dangerous to walk around town, contrary to common sense. You see, only the crazy people left the relative safety of the buildings and joined one of the many gangs on the street. They were all drunk, all the time. Where they obtained guns was beyond Kurosaki--he had suspicions that some lucky bastards made a fortune supplying these lunatics with heat--but the wild ruffians couldn't aim worth a damn. You were in more danger of being hit by a stray projectile that was _not _intended specifically for your head. Though, really, none of these gang members seriously aimed to kill people._

_Those that chose to live on the streets wanted to get shot, more than anything else._

_It was hopelessness that drove these insane people to the streets. Or they were unable to get their hands on any Data. Either way, they had been crushed by the oppressive weight of Yoru and were very suicidal. Driven mad from this world without opportunity or hope, they went berserk. Picked up guns because they secretly wished to become targets for other maniacs and die. Leave this hellhole once and for all. Yeah, it would make more sense to turn the lethal weapons upon themselves. Say goodbye on their own and save people who needed to go somewhere, like Kurosaki, a lot of trouble instead of going ballistic and lashing out at random against the city. However, you have to realize that these people weren't right in their minds. Besides, very suicidal or not, they still feared death almost as much as the city._

_This carnage was what Kurosaki went through._

_The streets of Yoru were terrifying because they made real your fears about failing. The sight of its buildings crumbling chipped away at your own soul. After your will to go on left you, this hell was what awaited you._

Oh, the possibilities with this setting are unlimited. I wonder how many lives I should allow each user...

_The occasional grenade was tossed indiscriminately, and Kurosaki hated it when one landed nearby. Not because it risked his life--nor because it meant others could die!--but because throwing himself to the ground to save himself could mean the loss of his all-important Data. Fires burned from where stray grenades had hit cars or people, providing light where street lamps had long since been knocked over or burnt out. And so many still bodies. Most were dead or lifeless, if not running down the middle of the road like a madman. Young, old, every gender alike. Didn't anybody ever take them away? A few of the especially daring made a living rummaging through the deceased remains of those who were unlucky enough to get caught in the crossfire._

_Still, someone should do something about the blood. It would have been nice if it rained more often here, so the dark, brownish-red stains that graffittied the walls and sidewalks would get washed off more frequently than never._

_Doing his best to ignore most of his ludicrous surroundings, Kurosaki made his way through the residential district, where he lived, on his way to the outskirts of Yoru. To the edge of the mad city. His destination. He avoided walking too quickly, so as not to attract attention, would pause occasionally when it seemed a heavy round of gunfire would go off right in front of him. The stars above the ruined buildings hid beneath a smoky haze across the atmosphere, as if ashamed by the chaos below._

_Then, after being so successful in not making any grave mistakes, Kurosaki fucked up real bad and bumped into a person._

_Then, he snapped at that person. Which was the biggest mistake. "Hey, watch where you're going!" he yelled at the large, dark shape that had the audacity to step in his way. That was the dumb move. Speaking up. He always had problems with that._

Awesome! Die, impostor! My heart's pounding! Wait, isn't that...?

_The shape turned around, possibly intent on murder. A big pair of knuckles cracked menacingly. And white eyes suddenly widened. _

_"...Ichigo?"_

_"Huh? Chad?"_

_Recognition passed between the two. Abruptly, both burst out laughing like idiots, in the middle of insanity personified._

...What a letdown. I should have programmed it so he would have perished in this scenario.

_"Hey, what are you doing out here, man?" Kurosaki laughed, in too good a mood to be disturbed by the voice._

_Light-hearted seconds before, Chad's gaze darkened. "Doing a guide job."_

_An explosion went off in the far distance._

_"Guide job? Where's the customer, then?"_

_"Dead. Went ahead of me and was gunned down."_

_"Oh."_

_"Don't worry, though. The guy was a loner that no one cared about. Still..."_

_"You wished you could have done your job. Right?"_

_"...Yeah."_

_Being a guide was a dangerous job. More dangerous than most, rather. A guide's role was to help regular folk get through the city unharmed. You had to be half-mad to become one, but the pay was far better than most. Only the few successful people in Yoru could afford guides--or needed to go anywhere and needed them--so you'd get a lot of cash if you got your client safe to their destination. If. Most often, either the client or the guide, or both, didn't survive. If only the guide lived, he or she risked a bounty being placed on their heads by the client's relatively wealthy and surviving family members. Bad enough that you don't get paid for a failed mission, you could go mad after failing to protect too many customers because you'd be forced to deal with too many bounty hunters. A lot of guides did go mad if they weren't crazy already to accept the job.._

_"Well, I need to go, Chad. Seeya."_

_"Wait, where you going?...Making a..." Chad hushed into a whisper. "...delivery?"_

_All Kurosaki did was nod. Gunfire pounded._

_Chad understood. "Want a guide, Ichigo?" he offered his assistance. "Free of charge for a friend."_

_"Thanks, but no thanks. I'm already drawing too much attention by talking to a guide. I should have left before now."_

_"All right...Mind if I ask who you're going to?"_

_"Later, Chad."_

_And Kurosaki's detour ended. He felt Chad's eyes on his back until he turned a corner. He pulled his jacket closer to himself, huddling his gangly shoulders. Why did he do these things, again? At times, it felt like he had no control over himself._

Hmm, that's dangerous thinking. Don't want the customers' systems crashing mid-game.

_The hissing roar of a missile being fired caused Kurosaki to glance upwards. Across the city, a plume of fire lit up in an already-damaged skyscraper, and Kurosaki felt fortunate he was nowhere near the building as debris descended towards some unlucky people sleeping below the skyscraper._

_While his head was up, Kurosaki stared at the brightest light in the sky. The moon was full this night. A pretty good night so far, Kurosaki figured._

_But he soon changed his mind._

_Walking across Yoru with your head up is incredibly stupid. And Kurosaki was walking across Yoru with his head up. And this was incredibly stupid because Kurosaki stepped into a crack in the sidewalk and immediately tripped._

_Yoru went silent, or so it seemed. The guns stopped in this one moment when Kurosaki needed them blazing._

_The fall didn't hurt. However, a precious needle rolled out of his coat and the sound of weighted glass spinning across the concrete was louder than any explosions earlier tonight to Kurosaki's ear._

_Oh shit._

Oh yes.

_Kurosaki forgot any pain in his body. All his troubles of making ends meet vanished. He didn't care about what he'd do for supper. He was in serious trouble and he scrambled to his feet at a full sprint._

_He was running for his life now._

_From a group of hundreds of people that were suddenly awake and after his blood. The needle that fell out was greedily snatched up and a crowd fought to the death over it. Machine guns roared. None were fired at Kurosaki because no one wanted to break the Data. Machine guns were fired at any and everyone else in his vicinity. It was chaos._

_The dead city came alive in order to get the happy memories they could take from Kurosaki._

_He could run and they would follow him anywhere, pulverize him and strip him of all his Data that they desperately wanted. And they would fight each other for this Data, but Kurosaki could not care less about that because he would be dead if that happened._

Run, run! Hahahahaha!

_He hated this damn voice, so much like his own, laughing at him but Kurosaki did run for all his worth, regardless. This wasn't the first time he'd been in such a position. Screams pursued him. He wasn't sure how he hadn't already been grabbed, but he somehow kept ahead of his followers. That's all that mattered and it gave him some hope._

_But he needed more than hope, he knew from experience. Right now, the doctor called for a big dose of luck. And didn't Kurosaki have the Devil's Luck?_

_Yeah, he did._

_Twisting and turning down streets to keep ahead of an every-growing mob, Kurosaki was convinced his luck had finally ran dry this night when a door in a building abruptly opened and an arm pulled him inside a dark room. The door slammed shut. The mob ran past the door._

_And Kurosaki was given another reprise._

Lucky bastard...but that sure was exciting. I'll have to find a way to put more weapons on the street for anyone to pick up...Increase the width of the sidewalks or something...

_"You're a moron, you know that? Eh, Kurosaki?"_

_Kurosaki's saviour taunted him from the darkness. It didn't remain dark, however, and a glint from glasses greeted him after a light flickered on._

_"Shut up, Ishida." Kurosaki was in no mood to be reminded this. He couldn't believe he'd made such an amateur mistake._

_"...And you owe me for this, you know that," added Ishida._

_Kurosaki grimaced. "Yeah, I do," he spat out in disgust. Both at himself and Ishida._

_"You know what I want, too."_

_"Yes. The same thing those crazed people do. Well, you'll get it, don't worry."_

_Ishida smiled. The smug punk was enjoying this rare change of fortune. More often than not, it was Kurosaki who pulled his fellow hacker out of the fire. Ishida would milk this for all it was worth and Kurosaki would not hear the end of this for quite some time._

Ah, annoying that he had to get saved, but nobody wants a game over screen too quickly.

_After partaking some of the data, Kurosaki waited in Ishida's lab for a few minutes before setting out again. He'd whipped the mob into a frenzy with a foolish slip of his foot, but their fervour couldn't last long. Sure enough, not a soul was in sight when he'd left the abode of his rival supplier minutes later._

_The moon was bright. The air smelled of sulphur and ashes._

_He hated this city. The temptation to open his coat right then and inject some Data directly into his brainstem was strong. To take total control in another world. If he didn't have a mission he needed to complete, he'd be a drooling vegetable right now at his home and loving it._

_No can do, though. _

_Kurosaki was well out of the residential district, out of downtown and near his destination by this point. Real close. The things he did for a friend.Her house was in the suburbs, hardly even a part of Yoru. A much safer place to live. Kurosaki should move out here, too, but he didn't have the money. It made no sense how he could be creating such a desired product and have no money to show for it. He blamed the voice for this, but quickly changed that thought. He refused to give power to the voice._

Ah, he seems to be here. Wherever "here" is.

_Yes, Kurosaki was there. His objective was this normal-looking house. The house was one among many that all look strikingly similar. All were a touch decrepit but were in far better shape than the any of the buildings in the heart of the chaotic Yoru._

_For a few seconds, Kurosaki paused to catch his breath. Then he knocked on the door._

_She was expecting him, so the door was quickly opened._

_"Took you long enough, Ichigo."_

_Kurosaki glared at this woman while thinking of the troubles he went through._

_..._Will he fight her? I hope so.

_But he could not stay very angry. She kept him going the whole time, after all. He put himself through all that shit for her._

_"Come on, Rukia," Kurosaki took her by the shoulder and welcomed himself inside. "I really need some Data after what I just went through." Really needed to prove to himself that he wasn't being manipulated._

_"No kidding," Rukia agreed, unaware of any ulterior motives. "Seems like Data is the only way I can see the sun these days."_

I've been wondering...just what is this "Data" that everyone finds so important? I don't recall ever programming anything like that into this world...Just so long as it isn't...

_In Rukia's living room, where her computer was, Kurosaki set things up for maximum simulation. Her computer was bought from a store ages ago and was nowhere near as good as his, but any computer could amplify the effects of Data considerably. And Rukia's simple piece of machinery could do this much._

_The wait felt unbearable now that the payoff was so close. But Kurosaki and Rukia managed to contain themselves. After opening a special program he installed on Rukia's computer, pulling some wires out from his custom needles and plugging them into the proper ports, Kurosaki was ready._What is he doing...? Don't let it be...

_Kurosaki ignored the bizarre mumbling. All he could think of was blue skies and fast cars. At last, he had two needles in hand. Then just one needle, after he passed one to Rukia."Ready?" They both asked at the same time, each with sharp tips pointed towards the bases of their necks. Of course they were ready._

What is this?!_"You want to know what it's like to live in a peaceful city, as a rich person where nothing goes wrong in your life, Rukia?"_

...No way.

_"Sure. It's got to beat this dump."_

_As one, they slid the needles in, entering the fantasy reality provided by the data created by Kurosaki. It was a pleasant daze of pleasant days._

So...that voice from before...it really is...?

_Outside of Rukia's house, the moon was sinking. The sun was rising. It was currently a time that could neither be called night nor day. It was the dawn of a new day._

* * *

Ichigo ripped himself away from the computer screen, panting. He knew it. Suddenly, nothing in his office appeared to be concrete. It was all as transparent as the glass in his windows.

Yeah, he understood what Data was. And now nothing else made sense, as he feared. His world was collapsing into a nightmare.

_Ahh, nothing like pretending I work at a fancy office all day._

Unbelievable. This was so wrong. Ichigo wanted to smash his computer in. But he didn't dare. How could this be possible? How could a virtual avatar of himself that he created be his creator? This was backwards. Mind boggling. He wondered if he was experiencing some strange dream. He better not be. He avoided sleep for a reason.

What time was it? Ichigo looked at his clock. About eight o'clock. Night was approaching. He'd been on his computer for some time, absorbed in his work. He couldn't think of much else now.

Things were not so cool in Hirusugi, all of a sudden. Ichigo could not deny this fact for the first time, try as he might.

_Hey, something is wrong with this Data...is he thinking what I am...? Hearing me?_

What a punk this other Ichigo Kurosaki was. Masquerading as himself. Tch. Ichigo was too cool to stand for this. He won Game Developer of the Year five years in a row (a record). Obviously, he created a game so ingenious that even he could not comprehend it. But he would undo this. For certain.

A knock on his door distracted him."Yeah?" He called out. It could only be Kuchiki. Ichigo and Kuchiki were the only two workers on this floor who stayed past seven.

Naturally, though, the woman let herself inside before he spoke.

"Hey, you all right, Kurosaki?" she asked. This conversation sounded very familiar. "You've been in your office since I left this morning. Didn't even come out for lunch."

"...I've been real busy."

"You missed Keigo's latest screw up. He set back development two weeks. He's very lucky he wasn't fired."

"So he often is."

"You look tired. Did you get enough sleep last night?"

"Of course."

Kuchiki clearly did not believe him but she let it slide."...How is your game coming along? You must have made some great progress."

"About my game...I'm thinking of scrapping the whole project."

"Scrapping it?! Why? You've never done that before."

"...The game is not very fun."

"Really? You were raving about how it would be the greatest game you ever made before. About how it would perfectly simulate a post-apocalyptic environment, and would allow the people of Hirusugi to enjoy gang wars with their neighbours...or something...I know it would sell a lot of copies."

_...Post-apocalyptic simulation? Don't tell me..._

"I changed my mind. It was a stupid idea. Now I'd rather make a game about cute rabbits."

Stunned silence.

"What happened, Ichigo?" Kuchiki suddenly switched to his first name, even though she knew better than to do that. And she knew she shouldn't be moving this close to him.

"It's about what you said earlier. About Hirusugi being too perfect. I agree with you completely, Rukia." Whoops, he wasn't supposed to use her first name, either.Her gaze hardened on him. "What happened, Ichigo?" she repeated her question firmly.

_The Data isn't working...! This isn't how I designed Hirusugi...!_

His office was dark. Outside Soul Society Entertainment, it was no longer day. It was dusk and soon it would be night. The sun had nearly been eclipsed by the horizon.

Ichigo could not bring himself to explain what happened. He chose instead to kiss Rukia; she didn't complain about the choice. She had words later.

He was sick of his life. Sick of his job. Sick of pretending to be living as though life was a game. And, most of all, sick of the dumb front he and Rukia put up every day at the office.

So he shut off his computer. After deleting _The Dead Zone_. The game never was released to the public.Night finally fell over Hirusugi. Ichigo Kurosaki never heard a voice in his head again.

Except in his dreams.

_Kurosaki yanked the needle out of his neck._

_At last, his head was blessedly quiet, except for his own angry thoughts._

_But the man was baffled. What he saw in his dream world was not pleasant at all. His Data was a complete failure. Just like his whole life and everyone else's in Yoru.How could his dream self have an independent conscious? What sort of side effect was this? Kurosaki forced himself to calm down. He had been imagining things. Again. He only _thought _his other self gained a life of its own accord.No, he'd suspected this for a long time. It was just he had no way of denying the truth now.He'd been denying it because the notion of another Ichigo Kurosaki having control over his destiny really pissed him off. He threw the needle--still in his hand--to the floor in disgust. Then he scrambled through the pockets of his dumb coat, flinging out countless needles. Destroying all of them. Destroying all the "priceless" Data he'd toiled so long to make. When he realized Rukia was still connected to the false world of his Data, he pulled her needle out, too, and smashed it against the floor._

_All the Data was gone._

_"What are you doing, Ichigo?! Are you crazy?!"_

_"No. I've had it with Yoru, Rukia. I'm leaving this rotten city." Oh, he was. He didn't even notice he'd decided this until he said it."...Huh? Why?" His companion was stunned._

_The real question was why hadn't he already, though. Something had snapped in Ichigo Kurosaki. Snapped free and was out of control._

_He finally felt like he was in control of his destiny._

_"Doesn't matter why," he told Rukia. "All I want to know is if you'll leave with me."_

_The sun was on the rise. Daytime was finally upon Yoru. Ichigo Kurosaki never heard a voice in his head again."Dummy. Of course, I will."Except in his dreams._

* * *

The room was no longer so dark. Either a light had been turned on or the sun had risen. Neither were very plausible but there had to be an explanation for the sudden light.

At his computer, where he'd fallen asleep, the man woke up in a fit.

Most likely, he wouldn't be sleeping again for a long time. It was these dreams. He hated them. He kept on seeing visions of himself, more than one. All reminded him of himself but were nothing like him. It was surreal.

They were disturbing, those dreams. Gave him reason to fear, even if the reasoning made sense to none save himself. But he wouldn't be consumed by these dreams. That was why the man avoided sleep; it was his way of refusing to give in. How long could the sleepless nights last? Not long enough, so far as the man was concerned; he was determined to conquer the need to rest.

On his computer in the not so dark room, he wrote about what he did in the dreams. About the various incarnations of himself he was privy to in the stuff of dreams. The man noted recurring elements that gave him cause for concern. For example, every version of himself created another version of himself. The same people surrounded him in each different world, with that one woman being the most important to imin all of them.

He wrote this down, noting the similarities. The dreams were all his mind could think of, even when he wasn't dreaming. The worst dreams were the ones where another variation of the man saw into his life or even created his existence.

That was why sleep was so frightening, by the way. He saw these key recurring elements in his own life, not only in the dreams. The people in the dreams were the people in his life. That one most important woman in the dreams was the most important woman in his life. He wrote about--and possibly created?--other versions of himself on his computer. No different from the men who were him but not him did in the dreams. He and his dream selves were too similar for the dreams to only be dreams.

Come to think of it, which started first? The dreams or the writing? The two were interlinked. Inseparable. In fact, something told the man they started at the same time, impossible though that should be. Would the dreams stop if he no longer wrote? Would the writing stop if no longer dreamed? The man was uncertain.

This doubt permeated through his whole life now, came to represent it. Was the truth that all the avatars of himself, spread across countless worlds, were real? That they needed to create one another to sustain one another? Somehow, the man did not think _any _of them were real--including himself--and it was this growing conviction that gnawed at his soul.

This growing belief that none of avatars were real tormented the man known as Ichigo Kurosaki, and not just the Ichigo Kurosaki in the not so dark room. Yeah, all of the Ichigo Kurosakis must have this nagging thought somewhere at the back of their heads. The only exception, of course, should be the _real_ Ichigo Kurosaki that was not a fake. The original, wherever he was dreaming, could not be sharing these doubts. And if the Ichigo Kurosaki in the not so dark room had these doubts, how could he be the original? Exactly. Or so the man in the not so dark feared.

However, the man refused to accept this reality, this fear. Ironic, this stubborn denial, considering that he also refused to dream just as desperately.


	3. Hollowed Mirror

**Note: **This was originally going to be the fourth chapter of this story, but it's rather self-contained and I just lost interest in my original third chapter. So I'm going to post some chapters I wrote long ago so I can move this fic into "Completed" status.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Bleach._

* * *

Should we?

The question had been on the tips of our tongues since the first meeting of our wills, but never were the words spoken aloud. Yet we both knew the other was also thinking the notion; it was obvious when we gazed into one another. Heh, I could see the idea on the reflection of myself in her eyes. But neither of us ever voiced the question. It was almost a game, you could say, to find out who could go the longest without bringing it up.

And neither of us wanted to lose that battle. To dare to take the evolution of our lives further. To give up that...something that made us and our relationship special in the first place.

It simply was too fun to be as we were.

Of course, our existence could and _would_ not remain this way forever.

* * *

**3. Hollowed Mirror**

* * *

It began in the deepest of blacks. Not that this strange place I had found myself in was pure black, since I could see gloomy white land below the pitch-black sky. No, it was the atmosphere of this land that could only be called black. A darkness beyond the imaginations of the living.

Yes.

I knew immediately then. I had died.

My first thoughts were of anger. How could that be possible?! I could still move. I was still in pain! How could I be dead?! Why was I in this hell?! I did nothing in my short life to deserve being sent here! It made no sense! None at all!

Yet, this strange temporal existence was oddly calming. I could not stay mad.

A distant memory surfaced in my mind. Father. Mother. My sisters. Violent crimson. The feel of steel entering me...

Quickly, I squashed them down. Never again...! Never again, I swore to my soul, and not because a soul was all that had not being taken away from me. I just never wanted to remember that horror so long as I existed in any way. To do so would be like accepting myself as a failure. It didn't matter to me that I was a kid; I _should _have been able to do something, I believed.

So I let myself be taken in by this impossible blackness. I would only look ahead from now on. No regrets. I had only the one path.

Where it would lead me, I had no idea.

* * *

Regardless of my choice, I was entirely unprepared for the new world I entered.

It was a cruel mirror.

At first, I wasn't aware of this. At first, it took all my energy solely to survive. To run, really, since that was all I could do. Monsters occupied this land of darkness and they were merciless. Hiding from them was the only logical course of action, though I could not say any thoughts of reason or logic filled my brain as I fled from terror after another filled only with fear. I had considered myself strong in the past life, but there was no way to deny my weakness in the blackness.

Yes, it was a mirror.

This unforgiving hell, this twisted illusion of my former life, forced you to look inside yourself without holding back. I could hide from the memories that brought me to this place, but I could not turn aside from the present. One by one, I was compelled to recognize each and every one of my flaws. Fear. Cowardice. Greed. Naivete. Kindness. Generosity. Even traits I would never call mistakes, even aspects of myself I did not realize to be a part of myself, I saw in this world. I saw how fragile they were, how quickly I abandoned thoughts of kindness. How fragile I was, when the thought of being generous backfired on me. I really wanted to look away, anyone would, but this darkness reflected everything back at me. Either through the hellish denizens residing below its gloomy moon that hung from an eternally black sky, or through my suddenly opaque soul. A mirror surrouded me from all sides, constantly bouncing back images of myself I never wished to discover.

Eventually, it would drive me insane.

That thought entertained me briefly. Being insane in an insane world was strangely appealing. Normally, I would not admit to such feelings, but the mirror had made me acknowledge jealousy towards those demons I ran away from. How lucky they were, I thought, to be heartless shells of humanity and kill without remorse. To kill with joy. I envied their lack of sanity because it allowed them to live, even if it was as a hollow reflection of the evil lurking deep inside them. In all likelihood, my Fate probably had been set to become as they were.

But then I met _her_, and everything changed. Whether it was for the better, I could not say.

* * *

I was running, as always. From a creature I could vaguely describe as a dragon. It had wings, breathed fire, and had cerulean scales. Except, I could not remember dragons being this scary. This fast. Or this strong. Did any of those fairy tales mention how sharp their fangs were? Those teeth had torn through solid rock easier than a scythe sliced through wheat.

And I knew exactly what would have happened if I had been that rock.

At that moment, I knew I was doomed to die. I stood no chance against a dragon. I only ran because knowing and accepting weren't being easily reconciled within me. Much as I knew I would die, I certainly had not wanted to.

Then, I heard a terrifying scream that stopped me in my tracks. No, that wasn't true. Really, the force of that cry sent me flying towards the cold ground, and I skidded to a painful stop against my will. Frightened, I looked behind myself to witness my end...

Only, it wasn't there. The dragon's mouth wasn't closing in on me, as I had expected. Instead, a new freak had flown in below the distilled white of the moon. And that was now what the dragon was fighting, I realized. I did not know what to call this other winged beast, but what I saw was a clash of titans, both a seemingly infinite times stronger than myself. Their blows against one another came faster than my eye could follow, as if they were exchanging bolts of lightning, but the sheer power behind the thrusts was apparent even to me from the effect they had. The recoil from the shock of hits landed was enough to send both monsters back a hundred paces. Immediately, though, they would close the gap and try again. Both needed desperately to win.

Because, I realized with sickening dread, both needed to devour my existence. It was a battle for who could eat me. I was given a reprise from my earlier demise only because these demons refused to share.

I curled up. What was even the point of all this? Even in the small chance that these monsters destroyed one another, more of them lay ready to consume me in other dark fields.

I started laughing like a maniac. Oh, I really lost it then. I was so pathetic it was funny. I was wanted only as livestock. I laughed and laughed and laughed. I no longer watched the two titans slash at each other's necks, or cared about its outcome.

Madness had come for me, at last. The darkness of the landscape was reflected by myself. Both me and the world mirrored one another, for an instant.

Or, that madness is what would have happened, if my eyes had not caught sight of a girl.

Thunder echoed in my ears, despite the lack of rain or clouds. Truthfully, the sound was probably those demons fighting, but I was too captivated by that girl to listen carefully.

Why was she standing there, in the heart of evil?

Below those two monsters, she stood. How she ended up where she towered over the ground without attracting the attention of the battlers was beyond me. It was too far from where I cowered to see properly, but it had seemed to me as if she was looking upwards to the sky, to where the behemoths battled. No, that's wrong. I thought she was somehow looking down at them.

It made no sense to me. She was tiny, they were big. Anybody could see either of those beasts could bat away her life with a flick of one wrist. The shock waves from the fight were enough to nearly knock her over. She was obviously weaker than them, so why did I sense she was the strongest of them all? Maybe that madness actually had taken hold of me.

But what stood out most to me about her was how different she was from me. I refused my fate while it seemed she could not wait soon enough for hers. We were opposites. Two opposing sides of the mirror.

And that drew me to her.

So like the battered idiot I was, I watched her and tried to figure this out when I had not been memorizing the way her raven hair struggled with the wind. The clothing she wore might have been beautiful once, but by then it was as filthy and unrecognizable as all clothes became here. The rest of her features had been impossible for me to discern in the distant.

The spell she unknowingly placed on me had held strong for some time, but it was not to last.

Two high-pitched death cries rattled the earth as both demons had finally delivered mortal strikes. They had been too equally matched so this end should have been expected. Fighting over me was ultimately a mistake neither would live to regret.

Yet, I felt no joy that fortune smiled at me. I was too busy running towards that girl.

For as the giants plummeted, she stood even then. As if daring them to fall on her. Once I got closer, I saw her expression matched the defiance I detected. Her feet were planted firmly on the ground, firm and unmoving. Probably, she would have stood adamant until she was crushed to death.

That is why I was running, though.

Something had been changed inside me. Whether it was because I considered her responsible for prevented my insanity or just a natural instinct buried within me, I was not sure. However, right then, I knew I _needed _to save her more than anything else. My precious life was forgotten.

I screamed at her without words while I ran, desperately trying to get her to move. It did no good. The girl was lost in a world of her own.

Faster, faster, and faster I ran. Faster than my flight from the dragon, even, I ran. How far had we really been from each other? Too far, most likely, for me to have been able to grab her by the shoulders and drag her to safety before the colossi shattered the ground.

But that was exactly what I did.

Dust bloomed into the endless night sky behind us, the ground shuddered from the massive weight and knocked us off our feet, and our eardrums nearly burst from the thunderous rumble. Yet, we were safe. Covered in the debris though we were, I held her in my arms protectively.

Then, the girl finally looked up and noticed me. Purple eyes tore through mine, making me dizzy. Actually, that loss of balance most likely came from my mind being jumbled by the near earthquake those monster created, but it had felt to me like that pair of violet circles was the sole cause.

What had come over me, I suddenly pondered?

* * *

Alone, we should have been clawing at each other's throats. This place was a never-ending struggle, a continuous fight to build your own mountain of corpses in order to climb to the top. However, no malice of such nature existed between the two of us.

"Why?"

Surprisingly, we both asked the same question at the same time.

In my case, the single word was directed in two ways. First and foremost, at the girl who remained still in the face of easily avoidable death. Second, at myself. Why had I risked my own life to save her, then? By then, I understood I had been attracted to this strange person, but not exactly _why_.

As for her, I was unaware at first that her exact question was similarly split in two ways.

"You--"

Once more, we both spoke in unison.

"You first," I finished in the next resulting pause.

Unexpectedly, her eyes shot daggers at me as she remembered the initial cause for her question. "Why didn't you run away from those monsters once they began fighting each other?!"

Dumbfounded, I listened to this in shock.

"Why didn't you run away once those giants started falling towards you?!" So, I answered by digging at the mystery which was eating into my brain.

"I did not want to move so you would have a chance to escape. They wouldn't look for you if another meal was closer by," she explained herself, as if it was perfectly rational. It wasn't, and I believe she realized how unbelievable it sounded the more she spoke the thought aloud, considering her next words. "I didn't want you to die because..."

She stopped, and I understood the reason. The girl did not know why she chose to sacrifice herself for me. Maybe it was then I started to figure out the double meaning behind her first question.

"That's stupid," I declared upon hearing her reasoning.

It made her actions even more implausible. Acting for others was purely a death wish in this place. An unspoken rule all agreed upon. If you wanted to advance here and become strong, you had to do it by yourself. No other options were available; any alliances formed ended only in betrayal, as the hunger for power would ultimately overtake the need for companionship. So, not only did she radiate a confidence as though she could defeat those demons, she had done for me?!

Despite my harsh words, I could not help but be immensely moved by that.

Disbelief then contorted her face. "I was stupid? What about you, running directly into their path to rescue _me_? Why did you do that?!"

I forgot she also was confused by myself. Suddenly, my face must have reflected the perplexed expression she wore when I asked my question, since I still hadn't understood_ why_ I desperately ran to save her. Once more, we were mirror images. Opposite sides of the exact same ideal.

"I didn't want you to die." That was all I had to account for myself. Somehow, I got the sense she comprehended my lack of explanation beyond that. It was only natural. We reciprocated the other so much.

Nonetheless, her poisonous retort was merciless, even though her lip curved upward slightly. "That's stupid."

Heh.

How funny. For the first time in what seemed like years--I could no longer keep track of time accurately then--I started to laugh. So did she and that made me laugh all the harder. In turn, I had the same effect on her. Before we knew it, we were practically rolling on the ground in our crazed humor. The carcasses of the demons rotted beside us.

We were both so stupid and that was the funniest thing in the world.

Eventually, we stopped. A stomach growled. Mine, hers, or both, I was uncertain but the noise made it impossible for us to deny our mutual hunger. I looked her over, another question on the verge of coming out, and took a likewise look at me, her mouth open. Tiny fangs poked out of that little mouth of hers, I noticed with a heartbeat. Then, both our heads turned to the dead beasts beside us with glee.

Before the feast, though, we each needed yet another question answered that could not be avoided.

"What is your name?"

Again, it was simultaneous.

* * *

Our lives would never be the same after that fateful encounter.

I did not know how she died and ended up in this place and I would never ask her. Secrets were not kept between us, but the past was an exception. I could tell she did not want to speak of it, just as I had not want to remember the horrible tragedy that brought me here. For her part, she did not breach the subject, either. We were content to let our histories begin with that bizarre incident that brought us together, and it was easier to fool ourselves into believing our lives truly did start there if we acted like they did.

There was no talk about teaming up. No rules were set. Nothing formal was present. We simply went wherever the other went without a word, and would lead the other to new places with the expectation the other would naturally follow. That happened without fail. It got to the point for us that imagining an existence without one another was impossible.

I can not understate how much easier it was to live here after she entered my life. Darkness is always around here, creeping inside me whether I liked it or not, and I slept restlessly every night because of it. Like, who could sleep peacefully when consumed by fears of a strong being coming across your body and tearing you apart? Much less when you had nightmares of such thoughts? A period of sleep was an impossible dream in this land.

Or it was.

With her by my side, the nightmares vanished. Had no place, really. We would take turns on guard. It was still scary to sleep, as half the time I would either wake her or be woken by her, and then a terrifying escape from some drooling monster would begin. Dreams of being devoured by her then filled my rest, after I would fall to that etched image in my mind of her standing defiant. Yet, that did not bother me. I would never have blamed her if she chose to strengthen herself on my flesh. I was troubled only by the dreams when it was I biting into her familiar warmth.

At times I would wonder what sort of dreams she had. Were they filled of the similar sort? Of her past, as I was prone to on rare occasions? Probably, I had assumed.

With her powers added to my own, food became a non-issue for us. Unsuspecting prey fell to our superior numbers. We had an unfair advantage by breaking the rules of the world. In the beginning, we could only consume the weak. Yet, we got a continual supply and never hungered again, unlike so many living here. We became stronger and stronger, together. Our bodies grew to match these developments. My muscles expanded as I sprouted to new heights. She was never tall, always small, but that worked to our advantage as many were tricked by the hidden power in her increasingly well-toned body. It was beautiful how deadly that made her, I thought.

I was unsure when we gained the masks that covered our faces as we ascended the ranks, yet those masks were a perfect representation of the covered shrouds our existences were. Because, while, on the surface, we did break the rules of Hueco Mundo--I learned the name of this place in our travels--by joining forces, that idea is a misnomer since it was wrong to believe the darkness contained any such thing as a law. Furthermore, we were still subjected to the cruel mirror as much as we reflected each other to new heights; we never attacked the other but we were as stunningly brutal as the land when we descended upon the hunted. We changed each other so much, but there was a core of the other that could not be touched.

As an invisible boundary separates your world from its reflection. You can see the illusion presented on the other side mirror but can never cross into it so long as that barrier existed. That was true for us and it held us back, though we would never admit it.

Because there _was_ a way to eliminate the wall, only we avoided it since we were happy to be as we were. We kept dancing around the issue as long as we could.

We were too entranced by the reflections we saw in the other.

Time passed.

* * *

Underneath the pale luminescence of the moon, clear black skies stretched into the eternity of the horizon. A horizon appeared further away than it should be, thanks to the great, flat plains of Hueco Mundo. Bare trees sparsely populated the land and, while they existed somewhere, no mountains or any rise in the land could be seen from where we stood. You might have expected it to be dark here--and it was, more than anywhere else at all times--but a strange, ephemeral light emanated from the sand below our feet. Enough light for our sharp eyes to work. More than enough for any moving shape in the distance to be spotted.

That's what we were doing then, by the way. Waiting. Just waiting. Waiting for our prey.

It was what we did to start every day. It had become a tradition, if you will. The reasons behind it, why we began, none of that mattered at the moment. Our kind didn't care about the past too much, preferring to not look behind, and we were far more concerned with the future, what would be.

Which, for me and her, was always the most succulent of feasts. That was our reward for being together so long.

And, that day, it looked like we would be hunting for top meat. Excellent. Silently, I nodded to my partner, then pointed to a speck too far away for normal human eyes to see. She understood immediately and was soon licking a trail of saliva from the tip of her lovely mouth. I could readily sympathize. But enough of that!

No words were necessary. We both knew the plan by heart and had developed an uncanny skill to react to the other's improvising. So, with preparations already complete, we vanished from our spot on the plain and split in two, like a bolt of lightning.

The unfortunate denizen was beyond regular sight, but the gap disappeared in an instant. Up close, I saw my, as well as her, estimation of its virility was accurate. The creature was massive, bigger than both those monsters I ran from so long ago. Powered by impressive muscles with multiple layers; of particular note were its mammoth arms suitable for a devil. However, beneath those muscles, a hint of scrumptious flesh could be detected for those willing to take a risk. And what a risk it was. Far larger than I it was, and probably many times stronger, too. Its teeth and claws looked sharper than mine. Not to mention its skin appeared almost too tough for me or her to penetrate. Furthermore, it had a giant mask covering a large skull, suggesting great intelligence, so it was no fool of a beast. A wild mane of curly back hair hang from behind the mask. Truly, it was a being with no major weaknesses.

...Except, it chose the mistake of living alone like everyone else did save for us.

Deciding a frontal assault would be suicidal, I stealthily approached the creature from the rear, faster than sound, and landed a clean blow on its neck with a powerful kick. One intended to stun for this one would not die so easily. Naturally, this meant it realized my presence and it reacted by shaking its head with such force that I was sent flying.

I hit the ground painfully and my right leg crunched noisily as one of my bones broke in two. I paid no attention to the grave injury, for it would regenerate once I fed, and making certain we got our meal was more important than the pain. Besides, I've had worse.

No time to think, though.

Quicker than it would seem able, the beast chased after me with a mouth ready to devour. Really, I should have died then, like so many other times in my life. But...the demon was hurt from my earlier attack and its co-ordination was thrown off. Meaning it missed me, of all things, and ran beside me.

I admit, that wasn't exactly what I had in mind, but I took advantage of the opportunity and put all my strength into my right arm to trip the prey. Turned out I had to use all my power since tangling my arm in its legs nearly resulted in the limb getting torn off. I bit back the scream threatening to escape after my shoulder became dislocated.

Meanwhile, the prey was in the air and heading downward fast. The earth shook and dust flew up in the air upon its impact. A cry of agony followed, but that wasn't my concern. No, the only thing that caught my fancy was the fact it landed on its back and the inside of its throat was left unprotected. Not that I could have moved over there and attack the front of its neck.

Well, I couldn't but _she_ could.

Instantly, she came from nowhere and fell upon it. Her fangs sank into its throat, provoking more screams from our prey, but our meal was quickly silenced as she pulled her back and ripped apart both its vocal chords and windpipe. Bright crimson erupted. Just like that, the powerful beast went still and perished.

And she howled in victory. And I joined in. Our bodies were electric, the heat of battle suddenly making itself known in the form of our ecstatic cries now that we were safe. For the time being.

Eventually, our howls stopped and she came over, blood dripping beautifully from her jaw, to help me to our breakfast. Seeing as how my part of the hunt was the most dangerous and crucial, not to mention I needed the energy more to recover my body, I was allowed the first bite.

I grinned at her. She did the same to me.

Then I dug into the formidable monster with reckless abandon. Shortly after, she too was consuming it and soon we picked it apart to the bone.

Another morning. Another crushing success for us.

* * *

"Ichigo," she addressed me calmly afterward, her voice a sharp contrast to her frenzied howling. Only the fresh, red stains turning brown on her ratty clothing gave away her--rather, _our_--earlier deed.

We sat beside a fire, then. Lighting fires was extremely dangerous in this world, as warmth was a commodity desired by all and attracted too much unwanted attention. It was a testament to our strength and growth then that we could afford the risk.

The warmth was well-deserved after our efforts, but, although I said nothing, I thought seeing the light of the flames dance around her mask was even more valuable than the heat.

Between picking meat out from between my fangs, I answered. "Yeah?" Mainly since it was expected of me to respond this way. I already knew what she would ask.

"Do you think this is enough now?"

"No." My reply was immediate. Practiced. "We still haven't ascended into the highest ranks. We need more souls." And I still wanted to be this way.

"How many more, though? We could take on most _Shinigami_. Especially if we fight as we have been."  
_  
Shinigam_i...those heartless bastards. Always, they came to our land in waves with the intention of wiping us all out. Always, they were thrown out by our kind...but not without losses. The black-clothed judges were immensely frightening, as a result. Personally, I hated them. I may have worn a mask on my face, but at least I didn't pretend I wasn't covering my self from the world. Unlike the Shinigami, which enjoyed killing as much as me but acted as though they were performing justice!

"Most _Shinigami_, yes. But we would be annihilated if we came across any of their Captains. You know this, Rukia."

Here it comes. That impossible suggestion.

"Then, perhaps we should speed up our growth, Ichigo." I expected it, really, but it still disturbed me to hear it. Even though half the time our roles in this play were reversed and I was the one who spoke these deadly thoughts.

You see, Rukia and I were evolving slowly since we shared our meals. Half a soul was only a quarter as nourishing as a full one, so we needed to eat four times as many fiends to reach the next level in our development. In the beginning, this didn't matter much because there are countless nobodies in Hueco Mundo. Only did this become a problem once we grew stronger and the prey we needed matched the rise in our power. Unfortunately, the top of the food chain did not have as much leg room as the bottom.

Breaking the mirror would speed our growth considerably.

Back to the conversation, I shook my head in disagreement. "No, Rukia, we don't need to do that yet. One more day will be enough. Wait and see."

"All right. One more will be fine," she conceded. Well, both of us didn't want to take the risk so it was to be expected. Then, not so expectedly, she brought herself right next to me and leaned her head against my shoulder. "By the way, Ichigo, you were magnificent today," the compliment came out smoother than silk, making me feel like forgetting reason and taking her right then and now. "Being so determined that you could ignore a broken leg, I loved every second of it."

"Nonsense," I dismissed her praise. If I was so great, I wouldn't have even broken the leg. "You should have seen yourself." Now that had been a sight to send a shiver down the spine and quicken the pulse. "The way you wasted no motions going for the finish was spectacular, Rukia."

She affectionately grabbed my arm so tightly her sharp nails drew blood.

To be honest, I was surprised we hadn't destroyed the barrier by then.

* * *

The next day, we waited in the black desert once more. As always.

"...Nothing," I spat out in disgust and kicked the ground.

Rukia turned to scowl at me, her mask causing the expression to be positively horrifying...and oddly hypnotic. We had a rule about not talking in the desert plains. Thing about Hueco Mundo was, everybody had excellent hearing. Simply breathing too loudly could ruin a day's game, we had learned too often. We knew from personal experience from when we were the ones running away from strange noises. What I did there went far beyond being too loud.

Well, so what? I was too goddamn _right_. Nothing. There was not a single organism for us to prey upon, not even worthless, powerless scum. Of course, this fact did nothing to cool Rukia's temper.

"Come on, let's go," I put my back to her and headed for...hell, anywhere, so long as it wasn't right _there_.

However, a certain somebody wasn't joining me.

Behind me, she gasped lightly. Huh? That wasn't like her to be surprised. She didn't bat an eyelash when doom fell towards her. "Ichigo..." she called my name intently. Not only shocked but breaking the code? "Quick, look!"

Then she tugged on my shoulder to force me to see a refraction in reality.

My eyes widened.

A _Shinigami._ The greatest hunt of all had walked right through our doorstep. It only took me about a second for me to meet Rukia's gaze with a devious grin to mirror hers.

And here I had thought we wouldn't find anything worth killing that day.

* * *

"Monster! Show yourself!"

He had detected my presence well faster than I anticipated. Those reapers of souls might actually end up being as good as advertised, I figured. But we would see about that.

Nonchalant, I closed the great distance between us in an instant.

"Yo," I greeted the man, whose face scrunched in disgust in response.

Well, he looked like a typical_ Shinigami_ to me. Black clothing. Weird contraptions on his feet. Sword. Self-righteous bearing. Conceited. Plus, he had a stink about him that could only belong to a filthy _Shinigami_. Any Hollow who made contact with them could never forget their horrid scent. Yeah, he was pretty typical, save that one thing. I felt like asking him about that.

"Do not speak so casual with me, Hollow. You have no right."

He was not exactly the friendliest of types, was he? I don't think the sheer hatred he felt towards me could have been more obvious. Ah, not to say I didn't reciprocate those feelings three times over. Still, he could have at least attempted to hide it, like I did.

Damn, he pissed me off.

But I smiled. "Sorry." Oh, I really smiled. "Guess no one ever taught me not to talk to my food." Big time smiled.

"Why you...?!" He snarled, already pulling out his blade.

Wow, that had been easy.

The _Shinigami_ prepared to lunge towards me.

"Wait!" I put up a claw to halt him. "Before we fight, there's something I have to know..."

"You're a fool if you expect me to tell you anything."

Who said I had? "It's about that weird thing on your face." Seriously, though, I didn't get what it was. "Is it supposed to be a mask or something?"

And he actually growled. "These?!" He pointed to what I called the weird thing on his face. "They're sunglasses! Don't you idiotic Hollows know what those are?! If nothing else, you should know of them from your past lives!"

We preferred not to look back to the past.

But "Whatever," I shrugged. That was enough delaying. "Come on," I provoked the dark-skinned _Shinigami_. "If you wish for me to kill you, you can charge at me any time."

"Bastard!" he yelled, then proceeded to charge at me.

What an idiot he was. It wouldn't be very fun for me if he insisted on being so stupid, in my mind then.

Yet, a fight was a fight and I was going to enjoy it. It really wasn't very often that _Shinigami_ came around these parts and you had to take advantage of these opportunities. So I was going to do just that.

Except...

Right before he swung his blade down, a hand burst through the center of his chest, spraying me with a wave of blood. The _Shinigami's _body spasmed, only to be stilled when the hand coldly twisted itself.

"Fool," judged Rukia heartlessly from behind the man's corpse.

How could she have done that?! I had been planning on taking my time and enjoying every second I destroyed that guy.

"I know," I agreed, but I was mad. "But why did you-"

"Not him, you!" Rukia rudely interrupted. "What kind of a line was that?!" She then lowered her voice and did an impression of me. "'Guess no one ever told me not to talk to my food.' Pathetic!" she denounced.

Hey!

"I thought it was pretty smart," I defended myself briefly, before returning to the topic I cared about. "Anyways, why did you go and kill him on me?!"

She pulled her fist out of the _Shinigami_ and tossed him to the ground in a heap before answering me. "You were taking too long, Ichigo. Again."

"Big deal. I let you talk as much as you want before you fight." Most of the time I did. Sometimes. Maybe once or twice.

She rolled her eyes and bent down to rip an arm off our defeated adversary. The right arm, too. My favorite. "Tell you...what," she offered, taking a bite out of the arm with a loud crunch. "Next time...you can ...finish the _Shinigami_."

"Yeah, but when will that be?" I settled for his left leg. "You know these guys don't come along every day."

"That so?" she talked with her mouth full. "I thought...they...hunted in...in packs..." The roughly chewed flesh of the _Shinigam_i fell out of her mouth and Rukia's jaw dropped.

No wonder.

Black, starlit portals manifested themselves in the air and a whole _Shinigami_ unit suddenly surrounded the two of us. Furthermore, none looked happy.

"By mercy! Look what they've done to Tousen!"

Gasps.

"Are they..._eating_...him?!"

Screams.

"Disgusting monsters!"

Accusations.

"Wipe them all out!"

Threats.

"I think I'm going to have nightmares from this..."

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! That was all I could think. Like, there had to have been over two dozen of them. We could not handle this many. Not unless we did something desperate. But that would have meant...

Fuck!

The _Shinigami_ continued to talk amongst themselves. Luckily, it seemed our actions scared them enough that none rushed at us. That bought us crucial time to talk.

"Ichigo," she addressed me calmly in the eye of the storm. Only my name but it spoke volumes. Shit, neither of us wanted that.

But...we had no choice. We didn't change each other's worlds fast enough.

Our voice became one.

"Should we?"

Finally, the question was asked.

And, simultaneously, we answered.

"_Yes_."

A mirror cracked.

* * *

Our enemies vanished.

We were in our own world then. Not even a thousand _Shinigami_ could interrupt the moment between us. Certainly not two dozen or so.

At the same time, we moved so as to be facing the other. Our eyes took in everything of each other anew. For countless decades, we'd seen the other every day but never like that. My heart went wild with excitement and fear battling inside every vein in my body. Scorching hot, my breathe came out. She felt exactly the same, too, I could tell from the breathe being exhaled from her and mingling with my own.

To me, she looked gorgeous in that instant. Those dirtied and bloodied rags she wore did a poor job of hiding any of her curves; always had. Her hips and the swell of her breasts were heavily distracting to me. From the knees down to her bare feet, her pale, soft, yet toned, skin entranced me. Her black and white mask covering the top half of her face, with its crescent pattern, appeared fantastic to me, but not so much as the blueish-red orbs behind the wide slits in the middle of the mask. Or the visible, white complexion contrasted by bright red lips. I had wanted those lips for so long.

And she had desired mine. I knew that even without the any possible doubt being dispelled by the rapt gaze she cast on them.

Closer, closer, we moved to one another. Slowly, because neither of us wanted it to be less than perfect, after waiting so long. Closer, closer, though we couldn't really get any closer without bumping noses by now. I tasted her breathe in me. Was no longer sure whether my lungs worked or if she was doing the job for me. The thought had sent my pulse off to the races. We were giving up our individual barriers, and I felt both empowered and protected by this new level of trust

I saw every detail of her, because she allowed me to, and found no flaws.

...Wait, something had been wrong with Rukia's face. My heart jumped in furious protest. Some blood still remained on her from that dirty_ Shinigami_. How dare he foul her like that! Enraged, I felt helpless against this impurity since I could not act against it. It belonged on the other side of the mirror...

But then I remembered that I_ could_ do something.

Daringly, I let my tongue leave the confines of my mouth and it couldn't make it to her chin fast enough, as far as I was concerned, although it took less than one of my rapid heartbeats. We both gasped when the tip made first contact. She had tasted better than I ever imagined.

Then I had tenderly, if possessively, rubbed my tongue around her mouth repeatedly, each lick leaving a slick and hot trail that glistened, until I had successfully removed all the offending crimson from her features. No, that was wrong. I didn't stop there. Even with my purpose gone, I couldn't take myself away from her and continued to caress the bottom of her face with my tongue.

Likely, I would have continued to do this forever if she hadn't reminded me of her needs by licking my own face lightly. My tongue paused as a cold wave of pleasure matched the gentle brush she gave me. How foolish of me to forget that. I wasn't the only dirty one.

Each wet, lap against my skin sent me to new levels of excitement. Probably, she could have worshiped me for eternity, as I would for her, and I found it difficult to imagine a better way to spend the rest of my days. Nonetheless, I could dream of greener pastures, so I resumed my tongue's activity.

Together, we licked and sucked every impurity off the other. I held her by the shoulder, and she had embraced me. We weren't certain when we had grabbed each other but we weren't letting go again. Voices of disgust could be heard in the distance. They would never reach our ears, though, lost as we became in the other.

Abruptly, it was destined to happen, our tongues collided.

I went insane inside and tackled this new development with unrestrained enthusiasm. Of course, she reflected my emotions exactly and our tongues rolled and twisted in a fierce struggle for dominance. A very even match. It was a draw.

Really. Somehow, we drew ourselves closer to each other and soon my lips were were on hers, and hers were on mine. I lost sight of the world then, so I'm not sure how she looked. Lost track of time, too. Our tongues were still locked and we continued to kiss passionately but I could not tell for how long.

Again, a mutual desire for more kept us going further. Having gotten that far, we knew we couldn't go back. Only forward.

Around this time, it was, I believe, when my arousal extended beyond my mouth. Not letting my mouth's efforts let up, I began using my hands to feel, explore, her body. All the way to her very soul. Every place I was curious about, I felt them through her thin fabric; her shoulders, the curve of her neck and shoulders, her breasts, her nipples, her hips, the inside of her thighs. I brought moans out of her, which I was proud of. My touch was electric. And, yes, she was doing the same to me, and I wasn't exactly quiet, either.

More than ever before, our souls gained proximity. Right now, everything in our bodies belonged to our partner, down to the last drop of sweat. It was euphoric.

It was time to consummate this ritual. No looking back.

Our lips parted long enough for our individual fangs to sink deeply into a part of the other's flesh. Rukia's life filled my mouth and I devoured it in rapture, while she fiercely took my life from me. Pain hit me two-fold, both from my own neck where she bit me and I could also _feel_ her agony from where I was biting into her. That exhilarated me more than ever.

Somebody screamed.

Not me. Or Rukia. We were ecstatic, went frenzied, each mouthful of the other tasted better than the last. We swallowed without chewing, rushing as fast as we could then to become one. I ripped her ear off. She chomped off two of my fingers. We greedily used each other's spilled blood to make the tissues go down easier. Each bite, we lost more of ourselves, but gained more of the other. We gorged our very beings on this chaotic feast.

We feasted, and feasted, and feasted and I began to forget who I was. Who Rukia was. What pain felt like. More and more of my personality was lost but the ravenous hunger for the person in front of me,_ inside _of me, never abated.

Until, eventually, there was no more to eat and we were inseparable. We became a higher form of existence.

* * *

We opened our eyes and stared out to see a handful of _Shinigami_. Hadn't there been more than that? No matter. They were our enemy. We knew that. Before, they seemed frightening in their high numbers, but now they looked insignificant. And juicy.

Of course, we were still_ very _hungry. More than ever because of the energy it had taken for us to achieve the impossible.

The mirror between us was shattered and two reflections had become one.


	4. Shadow of the World

This is the last chapter, which I wrote a long while ago. This fic just became rather warped in the end, but I figure I should simply post what I have and move away. Next I'll likely post another update to my Karin-centric fic, Long Way to Goodbye, if anyone's following it (and people should--it's good, trust me).

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Bleach._

---

It is a desolate place. Black skies allow almost no light to penetrate through, but it is probably best that the memories of better times cannot be so easily seen. Perhaps the fallen buildings wished for the cover of darkness and desired to vanish from the face of the earth. Perhaps not.

What is most bizarre about this place is that, despite the sun being denied a chance to illuminate the countless ruined houses of old, it is still possible to make out the outlines of this decrepit graveyard. This is due to hundreds--thousands--of pale orbs spread across the area that each radiate their own dim glimmer of light. Actually, calling these things orbs would not be precise; it would be more suitable to call them constantly changing and shifting shapes. In any case, the form of these sources of light are of no importance because they are never stable.

It is only necessary to note that they exist and that they should not exist.

Exactly how long this place has been enshrouded in the dark is impossible to determine. Precisely why these fragments of light float about like falling leaves is even more incomprehensible. Looking at the dead city, it seems as though the morphing balls of light will stubbornly remain for all eternity.

However, all this is about to change. And soon.

Silently, a completely different phenomena moves close to the rotting place. Not only is this new shape moving without noise, it is almost as though it touches nothing; none of the crumbling pieces of black rock it passes over even stir. Being an embodiment of darkness, the opposite of the fading glimmers populating this dark land, there is no way to note this unusual existence. It makes no noise, has no scent, cannot be felt and is a shadow among shadows in the desolate place.

But it is still there, no matter how hard the lingering memories of this dying place try to deny it.

--

**4. Shadow of the World**

--

He isn't sure when it started, but Ichigo Kurosaki's world is slowly but surely fading away. Piece by piece, person by person, feeling by feeling, day by day, unpredictably but steadily. Unstoppable.

Shadows come and go as the sun rises and falls, and his world is at the end of twilight.

_Lately, I've been feeling like I'm out of touch with myself, my family, my friends. Everything. It's like I'm separated from my body and I'm watching another person live my life for me, over and over again. What's weirdest about this is how much I really don't care. But that's probably the root of the whole problem. Things never would have gone so far awry if I had bothered stopping this when it began._

Light filters into his room, drawing shadows along the walls. Time for him to get out of bed, a new day awaits. Lazily, Ichigo rubs his eyes and strains himself to sit up. He has no idea how long he slept the previous night, if at all, but it can't have been anywhere near enough. Despite the fact that he stayed in bed until noon and will be ridiculously late for school, he doesn't feel rested enough. Whatever. No one cares if he's late, himself least of all. Distantly, he can remember a time when his father would never have allowed such lethargy. Now, however, it is shocking his dad's obnoxious snoring, drifting from across the hallway, hadn't awakened Ichigo sooner. Assuming Ichigo actually did get some sleep.

Not bothering to shower--maybe tomorrow he will--Ichigo stuffs himself into a school uniform and drifts down the stairs to the breakfast table. There, he encounters his two sisters. One, Yuzu, is yawning while the other, Karin, looks so tired and haggard that it seems she could almost drop dead at any second. Nothing Ichigo doesn't expect. Something at the back of his mind shouts at him that the two should be more lively and that he should be bothered by this, but he ignores this voice. Or can't hear it, possibly. It makes no difference either way.

Momentarily, he considers stopping at the table to eat or chat with his sisters. The moment passes and Ichigo is out the door before he knows it.

_I can't remember the last time I've had anything to eat. Surely, it can't have been that long ago since I'd die without feeding myself, and I don't feel hungry. Still, it seems like it's been forever since I've filled my belly with anything more than air. Also, when was the last time I've held a conversation with another person? At times I wonder if I've forgotten how to eat or talk, it's been so long._

Brilliant, bright light from crystal clear blue skies cascades down to enlighten his way, yet Ichigo raises a hand to shield his eyes from it. Tired, he trudges his way to school. Without his textbooks or anything he needs to study, not that this matters. Along the way, he passes houses undergoing a slow death; paint is chipping off his neighbours' homes in scattered locations, broken windows are left broken, there are roof tiles that clearly needed to be replaced. Not so long ago, these same buildings were being maintained in an utmost, fanatically perfect condition. It is like any love for the houses has vanished over the past few days, or weeks, or months. Or years. Ichigo is uncertain.

Odder still than this, some lots are missing buildings entirely, or just small portions of the old framework. Ichigo cannot recall wrecking crews ever arriving to tear them down, but he figures _something _must be responsible for the vanishing homes.

A most strange decay his town is experiencing.

The few people, as well as the single car passing by, he comes across look much the same as the broken homes. Shadows of their former selves. Probably, Ichigo thinks, he is no different to look at. No more than a dimmed reflection of better days long past.

How long can this life go on until he is no more?

_Is there anything I can do to stop this? Would I even want to, if I could?_

Finding no answers, for there are none, his pace becomes slower.

Then, in a blur, a dark shadow flashes over the rooftops to his side, faster than the corner of his eye can follow. It is a glimpse of midnight in the middle of the day.

He lurches to a halt in order to try and figure out what that shadow is. Or was, since it is already gone. Around him, the only other person nearby he can see doesn't seem to have noticed whatever-it-was. This thing, this creeping shadow, it surprised him by moving so quickly in a slow-moving world, empty of life. As if affected by the shadow's dexterity, Ichigo quickly scans the tops of the homes, unconcerned that others may think he looks foolish, in a futile attempt to spot the dark blur again.

All he finds is other shadows. Soon, he gives up the pursuit and continues to school. The memory of the brief disturbance has already slipped away by the time he arrives.

--

"Okay, class," groans the homeroom teacher, "it's a free-study hour. Do whatever you want," she laments heavily, like she has the weight of universe pressing down on her. Then she leaves the room as though those few words drained her of all life for the week.

Before, the teacher was beloved by the students. She did not work hard for their affections, nor was she so lenient with them that she was taken advantage of. Strict, but not without sympathy. Steadily, her easygoing attitude but serious dedication to the job won the approval of every kid she taught, if not their outright affection. A secret fan club few knew of--certainly the teacher did not--was created. She had turned down ninety-seven guys who confessed to her and two girls. Everybody had placed their bets on who would be unlucky hundredth suitor to be turned down.

Fun times.

That was then, though. At some critical point, that energy around her evaporated. Along with the rest of the school. And town.

Now, the class has no response for her. No cheers. Half the seats are empty, and not a single student nor present had arrived before noon. Every face appears drowsy. In fact, a few of the students aren't bothering to put up an act and are sleeping in the middle of the class, unconcerned with any ramifications. Really, as can be seen from the teacher herself, none wanted to be here. Question is: why did anyone show up in the first place?

Class never had been the most fun for the students, and each could think of some place they'd rather be. Learning taxed the mind. It's true that some students enjoyed the work, and some despised it, but everybody used to show up for as many classes as they could. Truancy never ran rampant in Ichigo's class before. If for no other reason than the opportunity to hang out with their friends, his classmates would try to be present. Before, that had been enough.

How did this stop being the case for every single student without exception? Ichigo can not figure this out for the life of him, and not just because he is uninterested in the answer.

It truly is mysterious.

Why did anyone show up in the first place?

Silently, the students sit in their seats doing nothing for the next hour. Alone in a corner by the windows, Ichigo hides from the sun's bright rays under a curtain's shade. A choice spot his colleagues would once have envied. None want his seat now, though, since that would mean changing their established routines.

Is this why people still showed up? Because it is what they have always done? But then, what about those who did not come to class? This returned to the initial question:

Why did anyone show up in the first place?

_More and more people stop showing up each day. In my few dreams, I wonder if I'll be one of them some day. I have no reason to come here. I only do since it's what I've done for as long as I can remember. Somehow, breaking my routine sounds worse than following it. However, I cannot put into words _why _the idea of disrupting the pattern is so threatening to my existence. We're teenagers, right? That's what teenagers do, right? Break free of their established selves? Yeah, so this shouldn't be something to avoid._

Though free to do whatever he wants in the classroom, Ichigo does not get up to talk with his friends on the other side of the room. Actually, now that he thinks about it, Keigo and Chad disappeared a few days ago. Or has it been a few weeks? Or months, even? No matter. There was no search for the two conducted by the police, nor for any of the recent cases of missing people, and Ichigo isn't going to look for them himself. Anyways, Tatsuki, Orihime, Ishida, and Mizuiro still come to school, but who knows how long that will last.

So much of his free time used to be spent with them, it is astonishing how unaware of each other Ichigo and his group of friends have become. Like they've become strangers, it seems.

_I feel that a crucial part of myself must be gone if I feel so undisturbed by all this. Yet, I can't put my finger on _what _that is._

It is tiring to think about this. Suddenly, the wooden veneer of his desk is seductively appealing and he realizes his head is laying against it. Before long, the world is turning black and not falling asleep will be impossible. Normally, this is the time when he will let himself separate from the rest of the world. However, today, an unusual twisting of light snaps him back to attention just before he can give in to sleep. Eyes heavy with drowsiness shoot up in time to see a black silhouette move and a door close shut.

_What was that?_

Glancing around, nobody else seems to have reacted to the minor disruption. Did only Ichigo catch sight of it, or is he the only one who cares it was in the room? Rather, cared to note its presence because Ichigo is already forgetting the shadow and drifting off into another dream.

The class continues to carry on devoid of any semblance to a normal room full of teenagers. Rather, it looks like a hospital ward full of elderly on their death beds, though even that would have appeared more lively than this.

Through a haze, Ichigo notes Tatsuki's desk, which she occupied when he first arrived, is now vacant.

He probably should be concerned by that fact instead of falling asleep.

--

Loud enough to wake him, the school bell rings to end the school day. Afternoon, more like, considering none of the students ever arrive in the morning.

Awkwardly, Ichigo battles an unwilling body and pulls himself together so he can head home and sleep there. He isn't the only one stumbling out of a desk. Most of the students who stayed the entire afternoon, and hadn't ditched early, are in a similar state. In a daze, the kids grab their bags, those that brought any, and crawl out the door. Words are not passed between one another, defying the standard for adolescents once more.

It is an unsettling image to be found in a school. The time immediately preceding the final bell is one to celebrate, to dash off to a club, socialize, or hurry home for whatever reason. This orderly, quiet, drained exit of the student body is too wrong.

Through a hallway, down a flight of stairs, another corridor, a pair of shoes are changed, then the exit and Ichigo is out the school and going home. Not long afterward, the last kid leaves the building and an empty school is left in Ichigo's wake. A school a mere figment of livelier times; it too is not exempt from this deadening of Karakura.

Ichigo can not be bothered by this, however. Home and his bed are all Ichigo can think of right now. That even they are shells of a former existence does not matter to him.

In this late hour, the shadows of Karakura are lengthening gradually. Short time has gone by since he left, but the buildings appear in worse shape than they did in the morning. Furthermore, the number of other pedestrians has decreased, too.

_So unexciting...So tired of everything...Can hardly even bother to think..._

Ichigo yawns, just long enough so he is unable to get a good grasp of a dark shape running in front of him. Again. Will this one shadow ever leave him alone today? Like lightning, in that you see it then hear its thunder, the dark shadow zips by Ichigo; only a second afterward does Ichigo realize the street he's walking along feels emptier after the shape's absence.

_Could there be a connection?_

Yet, he can't focus on the mystery for long. By the time his mind starts to rationalize, he is stepping through the threshold of his house and his lack of concern for anything returns.

Once inside, he goes to the living room to watch television. Soon, though, he loses interest and goes to the dinner room. Only one sister and his father sit there, doing and saying nothing. Not feeling hungry, the dining room becomes boring fast and Ichigo is dragging himself up the stairs, on his way to an early night The whole time, he can't shake off an uneasy feeling that a dark obscurity follows his every step. And that this darkness is the same he came across numerous times that day.

_Enough._

Enough of this abstract blur. He needs to sleep.

_Perhaps by the time I wake up, it'll be gone._

With this thought in mind, rest befalls him quickly.

--

Morning.

Or noon, to be exact. The time after waking up is morning to Ichigo, though, so morning it is.

_The sun is too bright again today. I can't sleep with it so penetrating...At least, there shouldn't be any shadows when it's like this outside._

A comforting notion, he decides. Almost enough to give him energy to force himself out of the bed. But not quite. He still needs another ten minutes. Finally, he slips the covers off and rolls out. The fact he still wears his school uniform and doesn't need to change helps out a lot. In the hallway, something strange makes him think for a second.

_Odd. No snores from the old man. Whatever. More sleep for me in the future, in that case._

Downstairs in the kitchen, Yuzu is napping by herself at the table. When was the last time she left the kitchen? And where did Karin go? Neither of these questions cross Ichigo's mind as he ignores or forgets the peculiarities of his own home, and slugs himself out the door.

During his walk, less people than ever travel along the sidewalks and no cars can be seen moving. Now, nearly a quarter of the buildings exist no longer and the other three quarters look to be in their most horrid shape ever. Dark shadows lurk behind the shattered windows of the remaining houses. Once or twice, Ichigo can swear he saw a shape move inside those dying houses, but he passes those off as residents moving, despite his suspicions to the contrary. Despite the fact no residents in Karakura are moving as fast as those vague, dark shapes in the window moved.

Today, the teacher doesn't even bother to appear and tell the students to study by themselves. Not that there are many students she could have told that to. Besides Ichigo, there are only three other students. One is Mizuiro; the other two have names and faces he can never remember.

Where Ishida and Orihime faded off to, he has no clue. Doesn't care. The other three students don't seem to, either.

_A nice day so far..._

With nothing to do, Ichigo drifts off to sleep as soon as he sits at his desk. Again, the bell wakes him up, as it does the only other student, some girl, in the room. Like the day before, the students, though only two, drowsily slide out of the room. However, are his eyes deceiving him or does a dark figure leave the room with Ichigo and the other student? Roughly, Ichigo rubs his eyes and decided he is still tired and seeing things, as a result.

Of course he's seeing things. Ichigo's the only person in the hallway.

Grey clouds overhead and the day growing darker, Ichigo tiredly leaves the school and follows the usual path from school to his house. Along the way, he see one other person. It is an old man, standing in the middle of the road, as indifferent and neglectful of the emptiness consuming Karakura as Ichigo is. The two pass without acknowledging the other or the bizarre disappearance of half the homes and their denizens.

A block before reaching his home, Ichigo hears gravel skid. Shocked, he swerves backward but the black frame of a body is already leaping away into black clouds above. Listlessly, he stares upwards for a minute before disregarding it as his imagination.

_Am I still dreaming? I should get back to bed fast and make sure I am, if I'm not._

Fortunately, the door to his home has fallen off, in addition to most of one of the walls, so Ichigo doesn't need to open the door. Less work for him. Watching television is out of the question, on account of the television no longer existing. Big deal. Nothing good is on these days, anyways. In the dining room, his sister Yuzu still sleeps; Ichigo is uncertain if she's moved since the morning. Not feeling a need for food or drink, though, he doesn't stay long at the table and continues upward to his bedroom. To his bed.

To the sweet nothingness of dreams.

Away from the ever present shadow. The shadow which somehow disturbs him immensely in a world without concern.

_...Sleep..._

However, he can still live without worry in his dreams.

--

Drip drip drip.

The incessant pattering of rain wakes Ichigo up.

_No sun today..._

Indeed, the darkness of his room is threatening. Shadows everywhere. Nowhere can he look without seeing dark shapes spreading across his room. So quiet, too. That downpour feels like the only noise in this world.

_What time is it?_

Is it still evening? Must be. Wow. Ichigo cannot remember the last time he was awake this late at night. Weirder still, he doesn't feel tired. Not only that, it takes hardly any effort to detach himself from the sheets. Though, Ichigo is apathetic to all these

abnormalities, as always.

Until he bumps into something solid.

In turn, the black shape which Ichigo did not realize is in his room, gasps and jumps out his window, into the rain.

Contrary to what may have been expected, Ichigo is not shaken by this.

Instead, he reacts by continuing his routine as if nothing happened. Pretends it did not happen since it could not have. He creeps down the dark stairs, and goes by the dining room without noticing that Yuzu is no longer there. As always, he isn't hungry and doesn't stop to eat.

Outside, the rain pounds away heavily.

What should he do?

_Guess I'll go to school. Maybe I'll be tired enough to sleep by the time I get there_.

Not considering to bring an umbrella, Ichigo descends into the pouring night. There, Ichigo can see little for the rain to land on, other than himself. Karakura is suddenly in complete ruin, down to the last house. Down to the last person. Well, not quite the _last _person, as Ichigo still walks the streets. Regardless, these cold, hard truths pass through Ichigo. As does the rain. And the dark shadows. It seems nothing can reach him now.

_Why am I going to the school again?_

Because that is what his routine demands.

Without seeing another person at all, he arrives at the school, not a splash of rain on his body. While all of Karakura, save for his house, is practically gone, Karakura High School still stands as strong and proud as ever. Only the lack of light or students gives away its lie for what it is. A dream come true for Ichigo, though, if he can still be bothered by flights of fancy by this juncture.

Unhurried, Ichigo stumbles down the dark, empty hallways of his school at night; the sound of his footsteps is drowned by the hard fall of rain. Why he came here escapes him now that he's on campus, but he can't stop moving.

Eventually, he is in his lonely classroom and sitting at his desk once more, ready to let the drizzling rain lull him to sleep.

"You gave me quite a surprise there, kid."

The deep, though womanly, voice comes from the darkness and is entirely unanticipated by Ichigo. His head rushes up to find the source.

There.

An open window. The dark shadow of a figure stands there. It is _the _shadow.

A breaking point is breached at last for Ichigo Kurosaki.

_Dammit! Won't it--or she--leave me alone and let me dream peacefully?!_

Ichigo steps away from his desk and glares at this dark shape of a woman.

"What are you?!" he shouts for what feels like the first time in ages. A dam has burst and he can no longer control himself. "Stop following me everywhere!" Along with the dam, a torrent of emotions is unleashed, none of them pleasant.

The woman chuckles. "So you can talk," she muses. "I wonder how many years it's been since that mouth of yours has uttered a sound."

_Years? What is she talking about? It's only been a couple of days, a week at most. Half a month, tops._

The falseness of the thought rings empty in his mind.

"You didn't answer my question. Who are you?!" Ichigo demands to know again, suppressing his self-doubt with anger.

"Cranky without your sleep, are you? Seriously, I have never seen people laze around more than your town did before I arrived."

"Tell me!"

"Fine," she sighs. "I'm a _Shinigami_. I reap souls. The name is Rukia Kuchiki. I know who you are, Ichigo Kurosaki, so you need not identify yourself to me."

Light from a sheltered moon finds its way into the room, and Ichigo is allowed to clearly see that this shadowy woman is a short girl with jet-black, shoulder-length hair wearing traditional Japanese clothing darker than night. A sword hangs menacingly at her hip.

_What a load of bullshit. This shadow was a cosplaying girl the whole time?_

"Soul reaper?" Ichigo snorts derisively. "What's that supposed to be? Some kind of comic book character? Heh!"

"Far from it, Ichigo Kurosaki." A cold winter day can not compete with the chill of her words. "We _Shinigami _guide the dead to their fate...whether they desire it or not." She clenches the hilt of her blade.

This has a profound effect on Ichigo.

Or it should have. "Really?" He is unconvinced. "Can't leave the dead alone, can you? Got to harass them even after the end?" he mocks her.

"Do not jest about my job, kid! It is for their own good that we patrol the afterlife. All turn to darkness and become Hollows without our support."

"Hollows?"

"What you could call 'evil' spirits, Ichigo Kurosaki, though I find them more pitiable than anything."

"Right, of course. So, you say your job is to guide souls?" Smirking, Ichigo believes he sees a flaw present in her preposterous tall tale. "Then why are you here? Your story doesn't make sense. There are no ghosts here. Just me."

The air darkens noticeably around her face, and a cold smile graces her deceptively beautiful features. "Why am I here? Haven't you guessed it yet?" She waits until it's clear Ichigo has no sardonic reply. "To take your soul away, of course, you silly boy."

Raindrops bouncing off the rooftop is the only noise for a few seconds.

"What?" Ichigo gapes, before recovering. "What sort of stupid joke is that?!"

"It is true. Though, as I said, you did surprise me a few times by noticing my presence...Most cannot see me, you see," she explains a little.

Ichigo shakes his head. This Rukia person is getting incredibly confusing. "Hold on. Why can only I see you when no one else can?"

"I'm not certain," she shrugs, "but I would say you likely had extremely strong spiritual powers while you lived. Actually, that shouldn't matter. Being a spirit, the living do not see me, but ghosts should have no problems comprehending my presence."

_...Say that again?_

His eyes narrow. "What do you mean 'lived'?" he asks the diminutive, yet frightening, shadow. "Are you going to kill me and turn me into a ghost or something?!"

Her eyes widen in surprise. "Oh, no! Not that!" She realizes she needs to elaborate herself further. "I can only send away the souls of the dead, not the living. I do _not_ kill according to your understanding of the word."

That makes no sense, though.

_And when did I start acting like I believed her crap?! Her frickin' seriousness is rubbing off on me too much!_

Nonetheless, he gives her the appropriate protest. "But I'm not _dead._"

And the self-proclaimed _Shinigami _bursts out laughing. In the dark classroom he napped it in every afternoon, Ichigo watches the girl giggle uncontrollably after telling him the most ridiculous of lies.

"You think you're alive?" She laughs some more. "Oh, you all did, didn't you? I bet that's why all of them pretended they couldn't see me, because they couldn't before. Only you couldn't do that because you could always see the dead." As quickly as the humor came, though, it vanishes and Rukia Kuchiki is quickly sombre once more. "No, Ichigo Kurosaki, you are not alive. You and every person in your town have been very dead for the past hundred years, only existing as ghosts all this while."

The rain taunts Ichigo in the following silence, hammering in her proclamation with every drop against the windowsill.

_What?!_

This is too insane. The woman is taking this too far.

"A ghost? Me?!" Now, he admits he isn't the most lively person, but a ghost?! "How could that be even possible?!"

"When was the last time you ate?" He opens his mouth but she cuts him off. "When was the last time you drank? When was the last time you used a washroom? Why do you always feel like sleeping? When was the last time you hung out with your friends? Hugged your sisters?" she drills him. "Why aren't you wet, even though you just walked through this downpour?" she gestures outside the window.

Ichigo has an answer for every question she shoots at him. At the same time, he reluctantly realizes none of them are true. Thinking about it, how could he _not_ be wet?

She continues. "When was the last time you _breathed_, Ichigo Kurosaki?"

_When _was _the last time I did any of those? Why can't I remember...? Am I really..._

Dead.

"You're getting it now, aren't you?"

His reverie breaks. "Maybe." Ichigo sounds a touch angry. Perhaps very mad is more accurate. "But so what if I've been a ghost? I was happy with my life the way it was!"

"Obviously you were. Otherwise, you would not have remained attached to this world. It's startling neither you nor anyone else went rampant as a Hollow during the last hundred years."

The nail in his coffin is driven deeper.

"Hundred years?" Still, that's really strange. "If you actually are a _Shinigami _and your job is to guide the dead, how could it have taken a hundred years to take care of my town?!"

She averts her gaze. "I'm...sorry," she apologizes with sincerity. "There was a war that put the world into a perennial winter...one that destroyed your entire town. It lasted so long we only recently won and could do something for the innocent lost in the crossfire."

Ichigo listens to her silently. Is it the rain that made her face so wet? Whatever it was, he cannot deny she believed every word she spoke.

"...And this 'something' you will do involves taking away what little I have left?" He softly concludes.

"Yes." There is no hesitation before her response. Her gaze hardens into steel and penetrates Ichigo deeper than any swords could. "We _Shinigami _must make up for lost time. What your town has been doing for decades is an affront to life. Most importantly, it's a disgrace to who you used to be. I will gladly see an end to it. For you, more than anything."

"For me...? I quite enjoyed myself, thank you very much."

"Do you honestly believe that?"

Images of living the same day repeatedly, never talking, never smiling come to Ichigo.

"Yeah! I did..."

Even to himself, he doesn't sound very convincing.

She sighs at him. "Be that as it may, Ichigo Kurosaki, it is time for me to complete the job Soul Society should have finished a hundred years ago." While telling him this, she draws her blade from its scabbard. The edge shines brightly despite a lack of any light for it to reflect. "You're the only who has yet to be sent up. I promise this will not be painful."

And she points the tip of the sword towards Ichigo's forehead.

"Wait a second...you aren't serious, are you? Is that thing real?" He backs away, stumbling against desks behind him. The blade certainly appeared razor sharp. "Okay, I'll admit that I'm a ghost, _you don't need to stab me with that!_"

More graceful than the wind, Rukia moves forward. "You have nothing to fear. Trust me, Soul Society is a restful place."

A step back. "Sound nice, but no thanks. I can dream all I like here."

Across from him, a step forward. "This world _is _a dream."

Back. "A _good _one. I want to see how it ends."

Forward.. "Only an eternity of loneliness awaits."

"Better that than dying."

"You already died."

"I can dream, can't I?"

Ichigo backs into the wall and is forced to a stop; he has no more space to back into. The distance between him and the curve of Rukia's sword diminishes to next to nothing immediately.

For the first time in a hundred years, Ichigo's chest rises and falls in rapid succession as a hot sweat breaks over him. The _Shinigami's _weapon is pressed against Ichigo's throat and is drawing blood.

The shadow sighs at him and removes the edge away from Ichigo.

"If you want to dream, Ichigo Kurosaki, then let me take you away from this world." She pauses to choose her words. "This place is a nightmare, no pleasant dream...Can't you see that?" A hint of pleading enters her tone.

And Ichigo thinks of what she says. Of what he wants. What he _really _wants. Can he believe this woman? Silently, he considers her offer as his lungs expand and contract. The tip of her sword is still pointed towards the center of his neck.

Seeing his indecision, Rukia whispers two words.

He chooses to step forward.

--

**Come Home**

--

In a suspended state of disbelief, I snap awake.

Where was I?

My sacrifice, a haze of dreams, an exchange student, monsters, a ghost? Bizarre events flood through my mind too fast to process. Which one of those places am I in now?

"Ichigo! You idiot, how could you sleep in a place like this?!"

A shrill tone calls to me. Heh. Maybe she doesn't think it's shrilly, but she can't hear herself like I can.

"Hey, I'm awake now, right? I'm sure I missed nothing important."

Probably. I'm not good with plans, anyway, so it won't matter if I don't know what was discussed.

"That's not the point! Do you want to make a fool of yourself in front of my brother?!"

"I don't care what he thinks."

She groans in vexation. Does she believe she can change my personality? She already changed my world, so what more can she hope for?! Seriously.

"Just don't do it again, or you'll regret it." A promise, not a threat.

Ooh, I'm so scared.

Then, images of the cold steel of a _Zanpakutou _piercing me return. And hot fangs digging possessively all over my body. I'm trapped in darkness, dreaming of an end, hoping more than anything that this _is _a dream. That my waking moments won't be the real dream.

"Ichigo...? You all right?"

"Yeah," I reply, shaking the vivid imagery away. "They were just dreams."

"Dreams? About what?"

You.

"All kinds of things. I can hardly remember them all."

Really. Most of them are already fading. Except for two words that still sound perfect to me. More so now, if that is possible.

"That's pointless, then. Don't be such a baby about dreams."

"Baby?! As if," I scoff.

She laughs. Not with me. _At _me.

Rukia punches me on the arm, softly. As soft as she gets, at least. "Good morning. Let's go home, already."

And I'm suddenly very happy. So happy this must be a dream, but so happy that I don't care, even if it is.

---

_Sweet Dreams_---

...And that is the end of this series.


End file.
